Waiting for an Epiphany

Waiting for an epiphany,
One that is long overdue,
Hoping the incoherent thoughts;
The rambling words grow lucid.

The jumbled couplets,
The unruly sonnets,
They mock me and chase me,
Chastising me for creating them.

The broken words,
And their unique beauty,
Elude me. Their singular pulchritude,
I am unable to touch.

I sit down on the dry green,
Awaiting the time,
I will find the words to write, or perhaps,
The words to be written will find me.

After all, what is harder than
The articulation of thoughts,
Into beautiful words
Woven to perfection?

I am feeling something,
Something slithering down my mind,
Maybe the words have found me?
A pleasant tingle courses through me.

My image of me runs,
Desperately trying to catch,
The elusive cloud of words,
Then I jump, and seize it.

Then suddenly, like a fish,
It wiggles out of my hand,
And puffs out of existence,
Out of touch and out of reach.

Hence, the world vanishes,
And I stay dumbstruck,
Without anything or anyone,
To accompany me in this void.

I regain my senses,
And my social obligations call,
The pensive ephemeral solitude gone,
My thoughts completely and truly,
Abandon me.

And, hope I do,
I hope they come back,
The next time I sit and think,
I hope they stay a little longer,
Than the last time with me.

‘til then, I wait here, patiently,
Biding my time, thinking,
Gathering my knowledge, my experience,
Ready to burst out in that,
Little awaited moment of epiphany.

Sept 18, 2018

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