When the Muse Speaks, Everything Changes
Sometimes, inspiration doesn’t whisper—it bells forth. When it does, will you recognize it? Will you dare to take its hand?
When I Met My Muse
William Safford
I glanced at her and took my glasses
off—they were still singing. They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then
ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched. “I am your own
way of looking at things,” she said. “When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation.” And I took her hand.
Reflection:
Inspiration doesn’t always arrive in grand fanfare. Often, it enters quietly—through a glance, a voice, a moment when ordinary life briefly glows with meaning. In William Stafford’s When I Met My Muse, the poet captures that exact instant: the world bending to something holy, subtle, and true. The muse, in this case, is not external but deeply personal—a way of seeing, of being. Her presence transforms perception itself into salvation. It’s not just about creativity; it’s about choosing to view the world with openness, reverence, and intentionality. When we welcome that muse—our truest way of seeing—into our lives, the mundane becomes miraculous. Nails grip harder. Sunlight bends differently. And even silence sings.
❓Three Questions to Dive Deeper:
- Have you ever had a moment where everything felt suddenly more alive, more vivid—like a muse was present?
- What does “your own way of looking at things” mean to you, and how can it be a kind of salvation?
- What keeps you from taking the muse’s hand in your daily life?