Late Discoveries

In the kitchen, water splashes, dishes pile high,

a thought flickers softly, then quickly says bye.

It hits me like lightning, then fades in a blink,

a moment of wisdom, too quick to think.

Conversations linger, but I often miss out,

as I wrap words in ribbons, afraid of the shout.

Why do I wait until the storm has passed?

These sparks of insight slip by—never last.

The bulb dims above me, a flicker to dark,

I wish for the courage to ignite the spark.

Instead, I smile weakly, then wash as I sigh,

the words sit unspoken, as moments slip by.