I Am An Idea Lost

I am an idea lost,
Finding my way out.
I am a deep pocket,
Full of growing doubt.

I am the empty pen,
Never thrown away.
I am a blank notebook,
Write in me, okay?

I am mycelium,
Chatter underground.
I am the sun and stars
Always to be found.
I am a creeping vine,
Seeking new stories.
I am a windblown tree,
Reaching for glory.

I am a fermata,
More than a beat long.
I am a quarter rest,
Right where I belong.
I am the empty space,
Filling up the room.
I am beautiful sounds,
Bursting into bloom.