Origin

Been working on this one for the past couple days, hope you like it.

The power of Creative thought

is often lost, less often sought.

we know not if it comes or goes;

we just feel original flows.

Is it the Lark, rising above?

Is it from house, or tree, or dove?

The answers can't be written down;

all we can "know" is all around.

So where are we left? High and dry.

"Knowing" nothing of eye or sky.

And as we try to learn of all,

imagination trips and falls.

We won't know the power again

of the moment before paper meets pen.