Inspiration can’t be seen.

I mean…you can only feel it.

Your wit won’t help a bit

So that to convey the feelings,

To create a real art

That comes straight from the heart,

Like a holy writ recommit

God’s gift and revelation.

How do I feel my inspiration?

It’s not a certain motivation,

But only my emotions

And certain commotions.

Just the same in other words:

Inspiration is like birds or …

It is something very crazy,

Something very lazy,

Something weepy,

Something very sleepy,

Something very heavy

Or impossibly high.

This something

Becomes suddenly light,

Light as a cloud, and flies,

Flies, flies, flies, flies…

Up to the moment it dies.

 

©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

The 8^th of September, 2012