A sperm of a thought...
lifted its head up lazily...
unwilling to wake up from
the lethargy of deep slumber..!
To express in words
I groped in mind...
Struck a blank wall...
Mind emptied of all..!
Tossed and turned..
Sat up and thought...
Thought and walked..
Racked my brain...
Delved into the world of letters...
for a spark of light...
to let flow the words appropriate...
to decorate my tiny speck to clarity.!
A foggy form envisioned...
in answer to my prayers...
The skeleton taking shape...
Words falling into place..!
The clouds slowly parting..
to shower its blessings
with the magical ink
to jot down the lines of my heart...
Simply...just simply..!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes we grope for words to fashion our thoughts, We struggle, we rack our brain. But they elude us. If we are persistent in our efforts, a foggy form may appear and in time, the hazy form becomes clearer and a distinct thing emerges, lucid and perfect! It is the moment of victory and we feel immensely delighted! You have beautifully summed up the hurdles of the creative process!