Mystery of Creativity


It’s like breathing to me

Yet it comes in spurts

It’s maddeningly late

To all my conscience

To all my misspelled

And miscontrieved thoughts

Why can’t you stay

Stay with me all the time

Fairy of writing

Fairy of thought

Whatever you may be

You are conceived

From within my creativity

Perhaps it is creativity

That should be questioned

But where

Would I

A wrangler of words

Question the mistress of creativity

But within my own Mind

In which

She shall just run circles

Until we are back at the beginning

The beginning of the why

Until my eyes become so heavy

I can no longer think

Until another day begins anew.

By Ashley Houston