creativity (Photo credit: smrisk)
My brain went dry,
creativity flew out the window,
winged off to somewhere,
but it’s still there,
hiding,
waiting for me to find it again,
‘tho I don’t know when.
Phrases keep flitting across my brain,
but fitting them together
seems to be a pursuit in vain,
will it ever come back?
Have I lost the knack?
One of these days, I’ll uncover
the words that seem to hover
just out of my reach.
Artists linger over a thought,
seemingly without meaning,
they ferment there without coherence
’til in one moment they coalesce,
begin to make some sense,
and then they take on
a life of their own,
usually when least expected,
they dance to an independent tune
spring to life when most neglected,
sparked by a smell or a word or a vision.
No need hunting them down,
they’ll come,
most often without reason.
© Janet Mitchell June 2012
Very nice! I can so identify with the words of this poem. I see you got your creativity back when you wrote this poem.
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I think we all go through those dried-brain spells! Hehe!
I think the poem is evidence enough you haven’t lost the knack!
Thanks for reading and for the encouragement!!
Ew, I hate it when that happens. Your creativity will come back to you and it will probably be in the middle of the night when you’re trying to sleep. (Or maybe that’s just how it works for me
)
Yup! Ergh!!
Oh I can so relate to this!
Yeh, right? I think our brains just need to go “offline” once in a while . . . I know mine does!!
This happens to me…and I find it rather bewildering and disconcerting…but like you say they pick up and start back with their own dance…whoosh…just like that, back they come…I wonder where they went???
Yeah, right? Flabberghasting at times . . .