A poem about waiting for inspiration to come. |
in the vast darkness of the room i sit and wait for her to come to me for i have searched high and low but she was no where to be so now in this lonely room i will wait patiently like a fox waiting to pounce but in a sense i am also the prey cowered in a dark corner with not even a candle to light my way and in the stillness of the room i waited the silence deafening to my ears the hours seemed like days and the days seemed like years but when she finally came slipping through the window like the wind i was caught unaware and as she crept up behind me i only caught a glimpse of her long silvery hair at last she softly whispered in my ear secret thoughts that only i could hear and planting a seed within the gardens of my mind she helped me to see where i was once blind and the seed blossomed and grew into something beautiful and new but she left as quickly as she came though i knew she would visit me again and although she was gone and was no where to be she had left a part of herself here with me she, who told me her stories and showed me her dreams so i would share them with other as she deems her name was inspiration she came to me that night and as she left, i picked up my pen and finally.... began to write. |