Inspiration Dies

Inspiration lies

dormant or dead

even as gorgeous orange light

permeates the drooping room

and all is consumed

by something not quite tangible.

Everything these days is work,

including leisure,

nothing is pleasure

anymore,

perhaps temporarily

but who can know

when feelings shift

or when they plan on evolving?

I could sit and wait forever

for no change to arrive,

no bags packed,

water dissolving

and escaped down the stream

and me still sitting still

waiting

waiting

waiting 

for no change to come

while inspiration dances somewhere exotic

unseen but alive,

just not mine anymore

and my dreams respond

by fading, turning skeletal,

starved to death

by my lack of urgency.