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