The Battle Lost and Won

As naturally and effortlessly as birds fly Unannounced and quietly an Idea came by Faster than the weightless wind it flew Where it came from no one asked, no one knew Longing for a cloak in which to be wrapped It knocked on many doors asking to be dressed It wished to be given a shape and form for all to see It wanted an existence, and in this world a chance to be The farmer was farming, the worker busy working The judge was judging, the thief in the shadows lurking The preacher was of the invisible kingdom preaching The poet alone with his heart and soul for the Idea reaching It seized him and became the fire in his veins The beating in his heart, the throbbing in his brain It became the movement of his arms and legs He asked for the right words like a beggar for food begs The Idea through the flesh was about to be born The invisible by the visible longed to be worn Like newlyweds neither knew too well the other They had to unite: each’d be both father and mother Now the idea took control and led the poet’s pen Then It was overpowered by the brutish man Now he’d try to bend It, to suit his words, to shape It Then It bent him so that into each other they’d fit He wished to be a channel for the Idea he sensed It had a burning desire, a purpose to be expressed When possessing parts of both the work was done An idea of the Idea was born - a battle both lost and won