On a point of inspiration

I wrote a poem in five minutes. In the car. While waiting to pick up my daughter from school. Then, at home, I entered ten poems into a poetry competition.  The judges chose the five minute one. I was surprised. I didn’t consider it that good.  I thought the others, that were worked on for weeks, edited and polished, were much better choices.
This begs a question. Should I have not worked so hard on the poems that were rejected?  Should I have waited for that perfect poem to come to my mind and illuminate me with its brilliance?
Yet, it is not as simple as that.
That perfect poem was brewing in my head for years before it was ready to come to the surface; a baby growing in the womb for months and shooting out fast when its time has come.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s