Creativity

Like any other source
Not relying much on concentration
But more on ability

Like an old well
Water has stopped gathering
Underneath the rivers have stopped running
The bucket I sent down
It came back empty
Not just empty but completely dry
I’m so thirsty
Nothing else can quench this thirst

The feeling inside is so strong
I try to ignore but it grows with every breath
I reach inside and search deep inside
All I returned with is emptiness
It is unbelievable because the feeling burns
But I just searched through myself
And got nothing

Maybe it is not in me
Could it be that I am feeling what is around me
I look around the room and see nothing
I reached for my magic lamp
After rubbing it, the Genie appears
Could not grant me any wishes
But I haven’t used any of my wishes today
Without a word the Genie vanished
But the feeling to make a wish grew strong

I want to project my feelings
Put the feelings to words
Ink to paper my words I want to print
I try hard to release to the simplest possible feature
It is so in me, yet far away to reveal
Like the wind in autumn
It runs in me freely
Consumes my mind like a toothache
It touches my heart and make it race
Damn I am hating this hide and seek

Funny, My creativity seems to shower most
When I least expect of it
Just when my ink and paper is out of sight
Mostly on borrowed time during 8 to 5
That is when the idea centre is unlocked
I can feel the wind blowing and clouds gathering
But when I so much want the storm
It always feels so near but it won’t pour
Could it be that it is raining
And am not getting wet.

Ag! The feeling to write is strong and the first word is not coming
Let me sleep it off
Maybe in my dreams I will summon the universe
And wake up and right a verse

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