"Something ungrasped" [ballade]

What was I born desiring to speak?
where bides the enexpressed poetry now?
must we cross mountains and oceans to seek
something ungrasped amid heart and brow?
seasons and times and regions allow
varying fauna and flora to grow
who what and where are essential to how
everything forms and when it may flow

What is the work I have yet to perform?
where is the quarry and which is the vein?
is the trail cold? or do I grow warm?
something may glimmer but nothing is plain
clouds are required if one would have rain
patience is needed through sunlight and snow
all to reliance on God may pertain
everything's forming when it may flow

Stopping and starting are part of the play
seeking direction is key to the game
when there is breeze the branches will sway
when there is form there's naturally name
every horizon remembers a flame
night becomes morning because of its glow
day after day things might seem the same
yet everything's forming when it may flow

Sometimes the canvas and sometimes the frame
ask the attention that art would bestow
isn't the river awash in this claim?
everything's forming when it may flow