I lost a poem today.
It was right there,
at the spout of my mind,
ready to flow.
I didn’t know it was coming.
It crept up on me –
that familiar feeling
of inspiration unhinged.
And once I started writing,
I knew there was more to come.
The foundations were in place,
and and the rest of the house waited
to take shape.
I desperately wanted to finish.
I knew it would take
just a few minutes.
But I couldn’t give it attention.
I had to defer,
for
more pressing concerns arose.
And as I went about my tasks,
the ideas kept flowing.
I hoped they would remain in my mind.
But more than that,
I hoped
the feeling would stay –
for that
is always the core of any poem.
When I sat down again to write,
I sought inspiration from complementary sources.
But noises outside
pulled my mind away,
closely followed by demands on my attention.
And the hope slipped away,
like driftwood escaping down the river.
And my poem was gone…gone…gone.
So I wrote this
in its stead,
as a reminder
to try –
as hard as I can –
to honour inspiration,
when it strikes.
To grab it,
nurture it,
give it space and time,
and let it take shape;
letting no obstacles block it,
unless absolutely necessary.
Because,
like time,
these poems are like a river,
and if you forego the chance,
you’ll never get it back again.
I lost a poem today,
but learnt a lesson instead:
write it all
before you forget,
don’t delay
or you’ll face regret.
Image source
slip-sliding away..... 
Ah! The artist’s dilemma, staying with the Muse though life presses in with its needs and wants. It hurts when the inspiration is lost, but look what came of it: this perfect poem!
Nice Yacoob, thanks for sharing. Creating a new poem from a lost one is like growing a plant from a lost seed.
Nice, Yacoob. Creating a new poem from a lost one is like creating a new plant from a lost seed. Thanks for sharing.
Ah, this has happened to me too once, though a bit differently. I wrote a whole poem (one which I really loved — I don’t always love them all the same) one night on my phone, when I was overcome by emotion. And in this state, I fell asleep. With phone in hand. And when I woke in the morning my poem was gone! I probably pressed delete while I was asleep. Sometimes I wonder if I had maybe dreamt up the poem instead of writing it in real life. I tried to capture it again… to no avail.
Once it’s gone, it’s gone…