Inspiration...

Wait as long we want, for the pebble to drop

In the end… we simply have to stop.

Even an eternity seems, just so little a span

When waiting for inspiration, to seize a man.

Walking for miles… and searching one’s soul,

Brooding for ages, and yet no thoughts roll.

Try hard as we like, for some inspiration to spark,

It seems to be always… further out in the dark.

Days can go by… and even months and years,

And nothing’s ever gained off all the shed tears.

All we ever avail… from ripping out our hair

Are frustration and pain… and some castles in air

Often we cave to them… and attempt to create

Soulless objects, pointless but ornate

And hence these pieces… never have a point

Words strung together and utterly disjoint

Perhaps these verses, themselves are such,

Our hearts set too deep… for them to touch

But once in a while amidst all the rubble

We feel inspired our effort to double…

Be it in a moment of standing in the rain,

Or seeing a bird caged… and feeling its pain

A splash of colour suddenly raises our hopes

And within a heartbeat, we escape our ropes.

Ideas flood our mind and now we can build…

Objects of meaning… and with purpose filled

And what beauty they have, in every piece

Of birds and rain… and long sought peace.

All those long days, with hard work and woe…

A moment’s brainwave… brings them low.

But let us not grieve, if it seems unfair…

For to the inspired work… there is no compare.