Fragor Magnus Poem by Paul Brookes

Having nothing to offer the Muse,
no sacrifice or rose red as blood,
no golden apple or flaming torch.
the room was quiet, as if full of thought.
silence hovering at the edge of time.

here in the space between seconds pondering,
is it worth the anguish, love that is.
infinity is a long time but suppose
the big bang wound back to density.

the spark not yet ignited, that sets time rolling,
those who have a ring side seat are blinded.
the Muse as always sits on the threshold or the side lines
she laughs as she always does at this mortals fumblings.

ergo she says ergo, ergo sum
and in the end that's all we can be.