Sometimes all it takes is
A lyric of a song
A fragment of a conversation
A moment captured in a photograph
Then suddenly there you are
Using whatever you can
Napkins, paper, your own skin
They become the thing
You inscribe your soul onto
The words flying above your head in a frenzy
Like gnats around your ankles in the heat of summer
Sometimes it’s nothing more
Than an idea
A sentence
Or even a mere word
But then you take that
Idea
Sentence
Word
And sow within the rich earth of your mind
As words sprinkle down like rain to nourish it
You find that it’s always there in the back of your mind
Your body being drawn like magnets to the pen, to the keyboard
Eager to set yourself into a frenzy
Letting the words flow from your fingertips like water
Then one day
You look at that
Idea
Sentence
Word
And it has become so much more
Something beautiful has flourished in its place
A strange feeling comes over you as you stare
Weeks, months, even years devoted to this flower
Then suddenly it’s grown
No more can be done
And inside mingling with the pride is a sense of melancholy
You’ll never feel this way again you say
Until the day
You hear
The lyric of a song
A fragment of a conversation
Or see
A moment captured in a photograph
And as you grab for that pen
The cycle starts again