Do Not Tarry, You Must Keep On Writing

the ideas come and they do not wait.
they enter your door and they do not knock.
they leave without any permission from your house.
they have colored wings and they simply fly away upon their liking.

they are so beautiful and deep and glistening.
enlightening and you miss them

now you sit there, speechless on the blankness of your world.
why did you not write when they were here beautifully dancing and singing?