Inspiration . . . the elusive thing that every wandering muse searches for. Inspiration is the heart and soul of a writers world. Inspiration gives life to the written word. Without inspiration, a writer could not weave a work of words into a beautiful tapestry for the reader to behold.
Inspiration generally finds me when I am not seeking it. It may rise from the ashes of heartache or drift in on the wings of a gentle spring zephyr. I have been inspired by the innocence of a sleeping babe, by the perfect sound of a child's laughter or the sadness of a grieving widow.
Often, when I am looking for inspiration it eludes me, only to sneak in and surprise me in a quiet moment. Inspiration likes to awake me in the dark of night and steal my slumber, my sleepy eyes blurring the words that I pen to the page by the light of the moon.
Some find inspiration in the world around them, some find it within. I have been inspired by a question asked, by an answer given. I have found inspiration in the wings of a butterfly and in the eyes of the old man on the corner who sits in silence as people pass him by.
An American flag, tattered yet proud. The image of a soldier kneeling in prayer. The trees that sway, dancing with the wind. The sound of rain on the rooftop. The softness of skin, aged gracefully with time. The worn bindings on my favorite book. These are among the things have inspired me.
I have learned that inspiration comes when it will. I have also learned to look and to listen and to feel everything so that when it comes round it will not pass me by.