Somewhere between the night and the dawn
As the fog's gauzy white sheet was withdrawn
From the land's alluring curves,
I tried as best I could
To remember the words I heard.
What inspires a writer to put words onto paper? It's
hard to say exactly. For me, when I need to write, I
prepare myself by opening a file or by having pen and
paper ready, and then, I wait. Waiting can be a matter of
seconds or minutes, and may end because of a pre-inspired
by a phrase heard or imagined or by something seen or felt:
Sensory in fact or sensory imagined. Or, the words may
never fully come, leaving me with a half-finished
sentence: an inspiration meant to be forgotten.
When The Muse whispers in my ear, when The Poet shares
the ideas and words, I must be ready to write or at the
very least, remember. And, "There's the rub", I MUST
be ready.
Somewhere between the night and the dawn,
In the hour when The Poet whispers in my ear,
I must choose to either write or remember,
For if I don't do one or the other,
The inspiration becomes a poem
Heard only by me.
