We all have times when inspiration ignites. At five a.m. this morning I felt the burning desire to write a post. In my in-between state of wakefulness, with my head still on the pillow I wondered…Why have I only posted one time this month?
I did a little mind traveling, remembering the events of the past three weeks. The words floated through my imagination in the form of a poem.
Maybe it was the broken dryer
and the mountains of laundry
that made it difficult to walk through the bedroom
after our anniversary hiatus to the Florida Keys.
it was the weeds in my garden
their ugly heads raised in defiance
and gnarly fists fastened
around the marigold stems
gasping for air
Maybe it was the hurricane which by-passed my state
but demanded my attention
with weather channel theatrics.
Maybe it was the sick dog
and the never ending schedule of medication
which made him pee on the floor.
Inspiration is as fragile and illusive as a butterfly. The flutter of the butterfly’s wings can be heard any time of the day or night. (Some writers keep paper and pencil on their nightstands.) I know I’ve been all over the map with my posts this summer. I’ve learned I cannot force my writing into a schedule. That’s the beauty of creativity.