The trouble with writing poetry
is you never know when or how it will strike.
It's demands are such
it does not care if your fires grow cold.
An imperative of the moment
it is the spark the poet strives to capture.
The spark that sometimes has been known
to even ignite a good poem.
That magic and miraculous lightening, that makes a poet write cannot be forced nor called upon, such is its ever, misterios strength and might. A most wonderful poem, describing the inefable mystery of poetry.
How very well said! That spark that suddenly appears, and no one know when it will strike
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
come; enter into thyself; feel the inside; smell the coal of feelings and make it ink of the poem; let's meditate on it