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