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Thought-provoking sparks
of brilliance, like fireflies,
wink out in the ordinary
getting ready for work,
for an outing,
washing the dishes
shopping for groceries
These brilliant sparks
become fragments
puffs of cloud
devoid of time, pen and paper
floating away on the winds of
responsibility or distraction
Will they return?
Maybe ~ and maybe not
Or like fire flies,
when lights are low
when it is time for sleep
new ones will come.”
“I’ve reached the moment where the movement of my thought
interests me more than the thought itself.
~ Pablo Picasso
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