The path of inspiration


The path of inspiration
curved on and on
past working eyes
and plodding soles
past slaving hands
and impatient elbows

It stretched into the distance
beyond trees, gates, houses
Not confined by time
Not restricted by season

It delighted in the unexpected
in the dark nooks of a forgotten cupboard
in the threads of a spider’s web
in a dish of hot roasted potatoes
in the words of a kind passerby

It hid its secrets in ordinary places
in children
in laughter
in storms
in gutters

It was not afraid of tiredness
It was friends with Writer’s Block
It made friends with darkness
It plunged into the deep

It led its followers to good things
Hidden treasures
Golden nuggets
Food that fed them
and many besides

One had only to rest
and love
and listen

Melanie Tan writes every day – for money and for love. More here.