Listening to every heart
From whence comes inspiration,
that shifting, wisp-o'-the-will soft sensation
of thought and context and words that stream,
as effervescent and gone, whiff, like a soft dream.
Sneaky little concepts, spiraling out of control
just as quickly as it comes, grab a pen, it goes
and in its absence, a sudden, inexplicable pain,
wondering if that design will even come again.
Oh, mourn the loss of the utterance now gone,
but pick up the pen and murmur the song,
hoping again to burst forth with creation,
as, from whence, comes inspiration.
28 August, 1999
~~~Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow.
Helen Keller ~~~