Just found this poem I wrote in 2004.

Messy, impractical, noisy life!
You explode around me in raucous birdsong
You spring up everywhere in impossible colors
More variety than I can count in just one genus.

You move and change and transform yourself
Before I can pick you and press you in a book.
How will I ever know you?
You are always more.

Life, you do not hold still
You do not lie quietly pinned to a board
I think I have you and then
You adjust, adapt, evolve.

Substitute “writing” for “life”. It is messy and ever evolving.