I walk between darkness and light
With a capricious muse,
And wherever her thoughts take flight
I settle down and peruse
That vision of a world reborn
Mull over the lay of the land
And where I strike gold in my mind
Ink lines stream forth from my hand.
There is an ocean for perception
And a dip is all I’ve sensed,
A world of understanding’s left
To grow unbound, untamed, unfenced,
And while I want to be immersed
lose myself deep, disintegrate,
There’s something else I need to search,
Learn and discern- and contemplate
And that, that bubbles deep within,
The sparkle lit, spring overflowed
A harvest from sound, sight and smell
Verses reaped from feelings sowed,
The quill walks of its own accord
Writing of sight beyond my sight,
And medium to inspired, conspired
With rhyme I set the page alight.
I always thought that this was one of my more conceited pieces. So I would like to sub, hmm, maybe not the page, but my mind’s certainly alight when I’m done with a poem. I can’t say I suffer from undue modesty, but neither do I like tooting my own kazoo (trumpets are heaaavyyy!)
But when I saw the topic in Prompts for the Promptless, Meraki, I felt like this poem just fit. Writing poetry is my light, it’s my personal drive. All academic and professional ambition aside, writing is the most fulfilling thing I do.
There’s a certain peace in writing, not just poetry, but really anything at all. To just sit and put pen to paper, and let all the jumbled thoughts in your mind out line by line, word by word. All the ideas, all the concepts, all the glee, sometimes, all the pain and the anger, are out of your turbulent head, and in a safe place.
In fact, sometimes I’ve noticed, writing about things that make you really happy, makes you happy later too. Months or years later when you happen to find that piece you’d written, reading it will actually put you in the midst of that happy moment again. And it works conversely with writing when you’re upset. You get rid of all that’s troubling you, and you get a sense of clarity that helps you deal with the problem, and get to the root of it. And when you come back to it, after however long, you realize that despite the dark patch and the troubles, you made it safely to the other side. It’s such a total win-win!
The funny thing is, I still don’t know where I write from. Something I see, someone I know, some day things go unusually, they all help me take the plunge onto paper. I will not use the word ‘inspire’, that would imply that I actually had a part in writing. But it never feels like I do. Most times when I’m done and satisfied, or relatively satisfied with the result, it feels like a separate being, a whole different entity that I was just a medium to. That’s not to say I don’t fiercely protect my work. Even if it’s two lines from when I was ten, I’ll still get my claws out if someone dare try to steal them! (meeeoooowrrr!!!)
Probably something to do with how lazy i am. I dodge claiming the praise because on the other side of the coin, I’d have to claim responsibility for it too. =P That’s why it’s so convenient to have a muse. Admittedly, mine is me some days, but it’s still a different part of me, almost a different person, whom I don’t quite understand, but still have fun figuring out.
So what about you? Where do you find your creativity, your soul, your love?
What’s your Meraki?
Love and light,