Love of Inspiration

Though celestial beings have emotions and desires the same as any mortal, they exist without the corruption of evil, and without the mindless passions of mortal flesh. We feel anger, but righteous anger, not maliciousness. We feel sadness, but not depression. We feel love, but not physical desire. However, I had no reckoning of the results of performing one act that would awaken my mind to these complications of mortals. Perhaps this was why I gave into such curiosity as to take into myself the substance of the mortal plane.

The temptation to do this became strongest and fully irresistible with the success one of Joseph’s songs that he named, "Strawberry Delicious Love." Perhaps it was my extended efforts to help him form the song that brought my mind to a boil over curiosity as to why he had always loved strawberries. From his childhood days, every desert he would eat consisted of that red Earth fruit, with strawberry ice cream or cheesecake to sustain him during the times they were out of season. I was, as any muse would be, mildly amused at this, but as time passed, I could not help but feel a growing curiosity as to why he liked them.

We are forbidden nothing, but evil is unknown to us. Often we of the supreme universe traffic in the mortal realms in corporeal form, changing our substance into that of the worlds of mortals in order to interact, but by divine mandate, never interfere.

Taking into ourselves the substance of the mortal realms was not forbidden, but it was strongly advised against in the heavenly realms. But even infractions upon advisories are virtually unknown to we of the supreme universe, practiced only by a few. But when I succumbed to the curiosity, and in corporeal form, bit into that single strawberry, such an advisory was the farthest thing from my mind. The taste of the fruit was everything that I imagined it to be: sweet yet tart, soft and pulpy in texture, and exquisitely delicious. My curiosity was at last satisfied, and I returned to my duties.

But alas, the change had come, swift and powerful.

I had been with Joseph since the day of his birth, and watched him grow from a boy of lean build with a propensity towards clumsiness, to a handsome, graceful, well-built young man. As he was now a celebrity, he had never been without an abundance of females who were attracted to him, but it did not require me to inspire him with the notion that the attraction was only superficial. Therefore, he had no one yet that I had seen fit to inspire him to pursue. But as the change overcame me, I oblivious to the metamorphosis it imposed upon my soul, his physical and spiritual attributes became more acutely interesting to me in a way that differed from anything with which I was familiar. I would spend long hours neglecting my duties to simply stare at every detail of his body and mind: from the texture of his dark curly hair, to the softness and sincerity of his almond-shaped brown eyes, his kind and humble personality, and the shape of his form and suppleness of his brown skin whenever he would exercise, go swimming, or take a shower.

Something was happening to me. Something had changed inside of me, and it was affecting the way I viewed my charge. Beforehand, I observed Joseph as something of a cross between the way an artist observes a painting in development and the way one observes the maturation of a close friend. But now, he was beginning to become something much more… and it both intrigued and frightened me.

Was I…?