It starts with a seed of an idea.
The vine begins to grow from nothing,
Just like the thought in my mind coming from nowhere.
The seed of an idea sprouts,
Thoughts make their way onto my paper.
Words are now developing,
The vines grow longer,
The idea becomes stronger,
The stanzas get longer.
The vines are now growing exponentially,
It seems to never stop,
It seems to come from no where,
Thoughts are the fuel,
And inspiration drives the growth.
Leaves sprout from the trunk,
They begin to cover everthing,
My vines of words begin to cover the page,
It grows and grows,
Until it reaches its longest length.
The vines are now stop growing,
It starts to retreat now,
The leaves turn brown,
The trunk is getting weaker,
As my mind begins to stall,
My thoughts cannot keep pace,
Everything winds down.
The trunk thins,
The vine recedes,
My thought decays.
Soon the trunk dies too,
There is nothing left.
My vines are gone along with my mind.
Just a way to describe all my poem writing processes. Whenever I write the words I use seem to sprout from nothing and rise to great lengths and than fall until my mind is blank.
I wrote this starting with 1 line in the first stanza then 2 in the next increasing up to 6 lines. After that, the stanzas retreat back down to 1 line. This is to show the rise and fall of my "vines." Hope you enjoy, any constructive criticism is always welcomed.