Oh Inspiration! Where art thou!
You strike at odd hours,
When the whistle of my cooker screams,
When I lullaby my little one to dreams,
When clothes are being hung out to dry,
Or pakoras being readied to fry.
You catch me unawares,
When I cannot catch you,
and sculpt you with the tool of my words.
I try hard to confine you within my brain
To not forget and chisel you into into shape,
But when I sit down to do just that task,
You vanish like you never existed.
And I am left facing the calm after a storm,
The silence that comes when birds have flown away.
The clean slate that contains no traces of your stay.
Oh Inspiration! Come to me once more,
For together we have a lot to explore.
I want to soar those skies on your wings,
And relish the joy developing you brings.
Oh Inspiration! Where art thou!
