Ideas swarm.
Ideas swarm around me.
Ideas swarm around me like birds.
Ideas swarm around me like birds to a fertile field.
Oh, how I desire to create evermore!
An overflow of creativity overtakes my mind and I eagerly await a canvas to beckon me.
Oh, how the canvas beckons me!
Crisp white fabric stretched out over a wooden frame.
Whether paint spills over it.
Whether my lips sings over it.
Whether dance casts a shadow over it.
Whether film is projected over it.
Whether I speak my monologue over it.
Oh, how the canvas beckons me!
A golden flash from the corner of my eye reminds me of a trophy I desire to hold.
A script tossed in the trashcan calls me to read it.
Brushes, with it's bristles torn, woo me too its touch-bristle to fabric.
The Word whispers a needed reception of my spirit.
As the dusk appears another day has gone.
What did I do to create?
There is yet a pile of unwritten screenplays.
There is yet a neat stack of portraits to be painted.
There is yet a clump of dances to be choreographed.
There is yet a bundle of gifts to be given.
There is yet a load of songs yearning to be composed!
Oh! My creativity! Where art thou creativity?!
