Some poems lose their way
As my mind meanders
From fray to fray
I run out of interest or steam
You, of all people,
Should know what I mean
Boredom sets in
Inspiration creeps out
A barely heard whisper
Was once an incredible
Shout
Until an enormous eagle is seen
Through the trees
Squawking like a seagull
Soaring wirh grace and ease
Until some sudden
Life lesson
Hits me hard
Between the eyes
And I go reeling
To the ground
An instant bard
Until the misty rain
On a late fall weekend morn
Breathes new life into
My brain nodes
Sleepy, dopey and worn
Words are knives
Or better yet
Lances and swords
They cut into
Your deepest hearts
And shake
Mountain sides
Into fjords
Deflation can be reversed
When air is pumped in
Inspiration can be restored
When doldrums are smashed
Like a late season pumpkin
Mark my words and hearken my mark
Better things are expressed
When the light is embraced
As well as the dark
~ Gunnar Våken
