Inspiration – A Poem

Once I wanted something

So strongly

It hurt inside.

It squeezed my heart

And boiled in my gut.

I paced the floor.

I had to find it.

I needed to let it go.

There was no other way

To feel normal.

But I didn’t know

What it was.

Miranda Burdo

Inspiration is a fickle thing.  It comes at strange times.  Sometimes it’s only an idea or a feeling.  And it doesn’t always have an obvious way out.  Maybe you’re not sure if it’s a painting or a poem.  But it stays with you.  It whispers in the silence.  It’s a constant hum when you’re busy.  Like a ringing in your ear that you can’t get away from.  Perhaps it’s waiting on you to listen.  To acknowledge its existence and begin a dialog.  Maybe it’s a sprout of some seed that was planted in your heart.  It needs some sun.  A warm place to grow.  Make a space for every whisper of inspiration.

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