If only we could capture that moment of connection
The fire and energy, all cosmic pieces fitting
That moment, that microsecond before rinsed away
By the wash of time, of thoughts and senses, living and life
Oh woe for the lines and lyrics, and visions lost
For want of a notebook
There are so many times that I’ve had a brilliant flash of inspiration only to have it vanish into of other thoughts. It’s frustrating to think that our lives are so very limited and the true sparks of the muse even more so. But yet we can watch them slip through our fingers so very very easily never to come again.