How is a poem born?
Without inspiration there is none at all.
No spark, no light — it is dark.
She is in inspiration’s wing.

It will touch a thought with it in the ether,
Send a barely audible wave,
Line the words up in rank,
Set them as verses into couplets.

If there is none, there is none, but when it COMES,
It will OVERTURN like a whirlwind.
All that is weak will become strong,
From the strong it will make the weak.