I dream of sitting by the side
Of a tranquil lake, its expanse wide
Stretching to the horizon
Its waters resplendent in the sun
Writing in my journal, with inspiration
Derived from the picturesque location
Surely the landscape’s sublime beauty
Would spur me to pen soulful poetry
Maybe I would strike a creative goldmine
And the poem would be a masterpiece of mine
***
Those were my thoughts as I sat one day
On my desk, my mind wandering away
As words somersaulted through my brain
In a jumble; I kept attempting in vain
To string them into a verse of some kind
But nothing meaningful could come to my mind
I blamed my surroundings drab and insipid
My desk did not inspire me one bit
Since there was no way I could go to a lake
Thinking I was clever, I decided to fake
My imagined landscape by painting one
Complete with the sands and the sun
It set the creative juices flowing
Yet that was not enough to get me going
Ahead with my writing, I still drew a blank
I was facing a writer’s block, the reality then sank
So I pushed the thought of writing away
With a promise to return to my journal another day
***
Then one day, while on a nondescript drive
Without any preamble, ideas came alive
And arranged them in verses all by themselves
I was in the flow, I did not know myself
How an entire poem I was able to conjure
Inspiration had just come knocking at my door
***
The creative process is unpredictable
Writer’s block usually occurs at the table
While inspiration often strikes when I least expect
Vagaries of inspiration I have to respect..
Passion...unbridled 