Author’s Note

This poem came from a moment where creativity felt tangled up with the natural world – the kind of moment where inspiration seems to arrive on the wind. The “green muse” here isn’t just cannabis, but the feeling of letting your mind wander into the quiet places where ideas take root and grow.

I wanted the rhythm of the poem to feel like the ritual it references: pause, breathe, pass the moment along. That repetition – puff, puff, pass – became a kind of poetic heartbeat, grounding the wandering imagery of smoke, leaves, and the spark of imagination.

For me, the piece isn’t about escapism. It’s about that brief window where the mind loosens, the world softens, and creativity slips through the cracks. Nature, after all, has always been one of humanity’s oldest muses.

— Rowan Evans

Whispers of the Green Muse
Poetry by Rowan Evans
(written February 21st, 2025)

I carry a pocketful of nature’s gift,
A little bag of earthbound bliss.
Sunshine wrapped in emerald hues,
A spark, a flame—my mind breaks loose.

Puff, puff, pass…
Puff, puff—

A breeze of pine, a kiss of sage,
Smoke swirls like mist on a mountain stage.
Wisps of thought take root and bloom,
Ideas dancing in the room.

Puff, puff, pass…
Puff, puff—

Eyes half-lidded, visions wide,
Fingers race, no need to guide.
The whispering leaves, they speak to me,
A symphony of poetry.

Puff, puff, pass…
Puff, puff—

Rolling clouds, a lifted mind,
Floating where the muses climb.
From soil to soul, the vines entwine,
Nature’s magic, in every line.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]