Unexpected Birth Of A Poem
By skinner_jennifer
- 671 reads
I sit here...wind and rain
hard biting at my window,
yet never allowing stirrings
to take shape;
with mind like those
tangled weeds that have
nowhere to go, I've come
to sit and fish for inspiration;
yet no ideas catch my hook.
I follow train of thought,
for my appetite is keen;
but words just float away
on ripples of reflection,
they mingle like complex
secrets hiding, rising up
occasionally – then vanish
into the deep in a heartbeat.
At times I'm encouraged by
unexpected lilting, emotional
sounds...a solace to my soul,
then I'm immersed...
sinking deep into the depths
where imagination's credence
cradles a new born; Sudden
visualization! As I put pen to paper.
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Comments
I like the fishing analogy.
I like the fishing analogy.
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"...to sit and fish for
"...to sit and fish for inspiration;
yet no ideas catch my hook." Another meditative journey. Enjoyed, of course. Paul :)
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You describe a familiar
You describe a familiar process, of thinking we have no inspiration, just starting something and then realising you do have an idea, or some ideas which are writing themselves! You express it well in the poem!
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