Inspiration

I sat alone, disenchanted, sullen,

With nothing to pride in, no cheer.

No lust remaining, no trust;

No music soothing, no narrative hook.

Then came a lightening insight, tearing

The dismal, the opaque dark.

Like a lark tweeting a spark of wisdom:

“The mind needs facts, give it them.

Unadorned facts is its need:

No embroidery no hem;

The thing reduced to the seed.”

Is that what I want, I wondered; not satisfied.

My need is different, not hard, dried and roasted facts.

Ideas are better, one like me wants them more.

But no ship of mine could sail on these too,

Without the wind to push it through.

A mast was needed, sail was crucial.

I needed a pushing oar,

That took me on ahead of others

Dispelling quite gloom and despair.

Then popped up from in me something;

A voice different in tone and scope;

I was arrested by its candour;

It did carry some conviction:

“What you need is to flap your soul;

To flutter it like a bird’s wings.

Notice in it the burning coal.

And do allow it to sing.”

My soul seemed too glum to stir up

Darkness did my light dispel.

Those are things long dead now for me.

Who can now flap up the wings?

Who can see glowing fresh coal?

And who can roll out the music,

That can stir up a hornet’s nest?

Where can I find the kindled candle

That will change darkness to light?