Words flow from my mind, dancing on the page
in front of me.
Twisting flames of music, calling me to join them.
Ideas only half-formed, just waiting to be shared
with anyone who will listen.

Will I finish this?
I don't know.
The creativity might go out like a spark that has been
stepped on, only to relight at the next opportunity
in a burning blaze of blinding color.
An interesting process, incomplete and confusing,
forcing me to push deeper into the endless expanse that is the imagination,
to draw something vaguely inspirational out of the chaotic mess of my mind.

Notes and words alight in my hands, each balancing the other.
Without notes, we would have no melody to go by.
Without words, we would have no song to sing.
I sing for things I've never experienced, and things I
long to see.

Because, one day, I hope to get there.