Spark that Speaks

The spark of a poet is born not in noise, but in silence. It flickers in solitude, between varied thoughts, beneath grief, beside joy.It's a sudden jerk, a strange awareness, a feeling waiting to be caught before it disappears. It arrives unannounced - in dreams, in storms, in stillness, It may be a word, an image, an incident, a memory or a feeling that won't let go until it is transformed into black and white.