Creative Inspiration

 I subscribe to "Writer's Digest", an online guide to assist budding writers hone their craft. Some desire to become novelists, others poets, still others non-fiction writers. All have found common ground in their desire to write. Writer's Digest offers advice, challenges, competitions, courses, etc. I have, for the most part, stood in the shadows as a shy, hesitant, insecure observer. A wallflower. Those who know me, truly know me, know this is the real me. The real me isn't the bubbly, jovial extrovert most of you see - that is merely a mask I wear to fit in. 

Last week I learned there is a Poem-a-Day Challenge in April. In the challenge, they provide a daily prompt, and even a sample poem, to help inspire would-be poets to write. I have been existing in a creative desert lately, the juices having dried up leaving my once lively muse looking like a haggard crone. Inspiration of any sort would be nice, I thought, whether it be painting or writing. Anything that may breathe some life into that impish little muse.

I log in each morning to see the day's prompt and hope for a little inspiration. Each prompt has left me feeling even more devoid of inspiration than the last. Until Saturday's, that is. As I went about my housework Sunday, a line popped into my head. Nothing jaw-dropping or dripping with delicious, lip-smacking prose, but a line nonetheless. 

On my way into work yesterday, another line emerged. Today, another. Then, as I drove to Starbucks, an idea formed. By the time I had downed half that Cinnamon Dolce Latte (with extra whip and sprinkles, please), I was ready to sit down and put pen to paper ... or fingers to keyboard. Here it is. I hope you like it.

The prompt? Communication

The ancient forest stands silent
Ever watching, ever lis'ning;
Keeper of life's deepest secrets.
Guardian of unwritten tales,
Libraries of leaves and needles,
Volumes filed on the forest floor.
Texts of stories both old new,
Recited aloud by the birds
and creatures who frequent there.
They celebrate our successes,
share teachings, wisdom and warnings.
Pages eaten, words devoured; 
messages carried on the wind.
The rivers and streams confess our
secrets, our stories, sharing them
with all those who come to their banks
seeking advice and wisdom.
All around us the world speaks but
we have closed our ears to nature.
We hear but we do not listen.

RADIO FLYER

To you it was a simple wagon,

red, dented and full of rust.
It wasn't much to look at
in the corner, gathering dust.

But yesterday it was a rocket ship
that blasted us to outer space.
To walk upon a moon of cheese
and battle an alien race.

Yesterday it was a covered wagon
from stories we were told
that carried all our wares
as we ventured off to mine gold.

Yesterday it was a fast race car,
shiny red, with speed like no other
that sped us down the road
to visit our grandmother.

Yesterday it was a moving truck,
carrying toys, sticks and rocks.
It was a bookmobile, airplane,
pirate ship and a sled pulled by dogs.

To you it was a simple wagon,
rusted and held together with wire.
To us it was our childhood.
It was our Radio Flyer.