Living on the tip of the tongue, just beyond our grasp, anticipating, almost resonating this forming epiphany eliciting an "A-ha" gasp.
From the primordial ancient waters this soupy mess, we can only guess it's origin, a part of our being, this old/new begin, as sure and natural as the supposed "original sin".
Ideas coming out and then back in, thoughts settle to coalesce and then end. What is this near spark that just won't park?
Civilizations build upon it then collapse, if not nurtured, it will lapse, it is what was meant to be said, yet instinctual stupidity yields in its stead.
A basis of love, war, peace, when properly prepared, yet often disappears into nothingness its fruitfulness sadly spared.
What was it I mean you ask? It was just living on the tip of my tongue now beyond my grasp!