Thoughts corralled...

 
I write alone, inspiration floats  
in and out, like a curtain in a breeze.
The darkness corrals my thoughts
into a swirling mass looking for a way out.
Every gate I open meets with resistance.
I can’t pen the thoughts I want without
the words held hostage by my mind.  
Then, a soul appears, in my head,  
to stop the maelstrom of thoughts and  
channel my words on to my page.
The poet lives a lonely and solitary
life, constantly searching his own mind
for the words to express what’s in his heart.
Sometimes those thoughts defy extraction,  
while a soul from afar can ease the reluctance,
and open your heart, letting inspiration escape.
Poets are selfish, wanting to own each creation.
But a collaborator is an inspiration sent to clear
the block, allowing words to flow. Accept that
muse, work with it, make it your own.