Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Incarnations

A Poem

I sat pondering from my corner
Watching children running and balling
Unmoved, thoughts drifting from their world
From where cometh inspiration?
Can I just pen down words and form impression;
Or first, gather thoughts from observation?

I miss those times writing came so easy
Other days require more reading
An extra effort requiring
Waiting patiently for a leading
I’d rather prefer the former smooth sail

I remained still, reminiscing
It’s been two moons in incubation
The third must be my incarnation
Birthing anew, a constant reality:
It takes intention to write expressions

That forest of literary reflections
The trees chiming with rhymes
Those leaves shedding refrains
And trunk of symphony
Are birthed from silent seeds of thoughts