The wellspring of joy and meaning,


    a precious gift from the muses.


    The wind that stoked the flame of life,


    the drive to create.


    A passion of myriad origins


    that leads to the same road.


    A fan fiction, it may have been,


    but the advent of a new adventure.


    A desire to see an alternate path,


    which animates the pen in my hand.


    A branch then leads to a seed,


    and creates a unique tree.


    A sapling of unsightly figure,


    yet nonetheless delightful to raise.


    And so, it begin, the first of many,


    which will one day become a garden.


    Though my passion was seen,


    and my efforts acknowledged,


    yet still I do not find,


    one who admires.


    Attempts were made, sweat was shed,


    yet the fruits of my labor were savored by none.


    “It’s fine,” I said, for the act was joy,


    but soon I witnessed a fact I cannot deny.


    Still, I pressed on, and I found compatriots,


    but their flames burn not as brightly.


    And so I said, “One day. I need only wait,”


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    Oh, how foolish I was to have so much faith.


    More seeds were planted, more trees were grown,


    still no one was there to adore its glow.


    Continue, I toiled,


    satisfied by the act alone.


    I thought, one day,


    “There has to be another way!”


    So I lay my hand on my mouse,


    and clicked away.


    A digital world, I ventured,


    an ocean of possibility.


    Here I will find passersby,


    who’ll no doubt stay.


    “Admirers, at last!”


    As I said with giddy.


    For a time, for a place,


    I was not needy.


    The years passed, the seasons changed,


    and the seed of a new beginning was planted.


    A magnificent fruit it shall produce


    should the tree be maintained.


    Alas, a storm passed, and the tree fell.


    The fruits, once sweet, now bitter.


    “One day, again,” I said,


    “but not today.”


    Sparks flew, but none remained.


    The furnace continues to be cold and grey.


    A sprinkling there, a nudging here,


    but never amount to any greats.


    The storm passed, and the sea calmed.


    Once more, I am home.


    The soil of time grew richer,


    and it was time to grow.


    Bushes raised, crops sowed,


    step by step, the garden’s whole.


    A main attraction, it still lacks,


    thus began the woes.


    A long, fraught journey,


    of countless trippings.


    Alas, I arrive,


    at the seed of destiny.


    The tree of my soul,


    The light of my life.


    A marvelous, thrilling goal.


    A story worth a thousand nights.


    Alas, compatriots I found.


    We share, and dance, and laugh,


    around the campfire of words.


    Truly, a sight to behold.


    Months passed, and the tree had grown mighty,


    its leaves and branches tended by two.


    In the future, it shall bore a wonderful fruit,


    but not yet, not when there’s much work left to do.


    My stroll in the garden near its end.


    New flowers blooming from the seeds I plant.


    Though the path is short, and the care is scant,


    My heart is content.