I am not among those you hear about,
Nor am I written down. For you see now,
I am forgotten, my myth filled with doubt.
It is this, a small power I endow:
That at the moment of ideation,
I come forth, to cultivate and prosper,
With hands held high, I hold your creation
In the light of mind so it may foster.
And once made real, my job is done and gone,
My hands wait ready for your next design.
For the setting of one comes a new dawn;
The spark lit, by you alone, I flame divine.
Now, when your ideas begin to sprout,
Think of me and know you're on the right route.
