Write on Poetry
What inspires me are the trees that surround me,
how they green in the Spring, how starlings
become leaves in the Winter, and the melodies
of sparrows, bluebirds and robins tug at my heart.
What inspires me is watching my grandkids,
they’re verve, vigor, and nerve make me float;
me and my muse amused by their mischief,
compassion and funny business.
What inspires me is my belief, my hope, my unwavering,
spirit-filled field of vision. I’m inspired by every whisper,
every word, every mystery, truth of the living God; by
the cross that brings me to my knees, and I find no words
to convey my salvation and relationship in Christ, yet
I do my best, dance around, meditate, pray, trust I
will say something weakly profound.
What inspires me is all around - nature, my family,
silly and serious things, aging, moods, night and day.
I could go on. I write. I write. It is right. Don’t stop me now.
I preach, teach, grieve, fall down, get up. You, dear reader
inspire me. Forms and other writers inspire me. I’m inspired.
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