Our fair muse hold court in the Middle Kingdom. It is perilous to enter, as it is guarded by dragons with long serpentine tails. The walls are manned by archers with quivers of quills. Cross the giant walls, and slip past her guards and you can enter.
Sail over rivers of red ink and past lakes of mercury, and you can reach her jade palace. It rests on the back of an elephant, with spires that reach the sky. From each level, there are silk flags that proclaim her mercurial glory.
Cross the gardens of pearls, and the lapis bridges that walk you over the ponds of quicksilver and her throne may be found. The throne room is made of gold filigree, and the Empress Muse sits upon a mother-of-pearl and mahogany throne.
She is clothed in purple silk, holding a jewel-encrusted scepter of a brush. She spends her days writing calligraphic ideas to implant in the minds of those who will listen. She whispered in the ears of the Boxers, to convince them of their invincibility against Western weapons. She convinced Dr. Sun Yat Sen of his higher purpose than medicine. The Muse walked with Mao on his Long March across the hinterlands of the Middle Kingdom. She has lately switched her allegiance, as she stood behind the students of Tiananmen, telling them not to fear the tanks rolling in.
Our sweet Muse whispers her dulcet words to me, and tells me that it is time to leave the red dragon nation. I leave with more questions than answers, but with something more precious than Marco Polo's spices and jewels. Her gift is ideas.
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