I sit by the window sill,
Yawning away the day
I'm waiting for it to hit me
My inspiration is on it's way
Is it in the silent breeze?
Or maybe in the sparrow's tease
The leaves that rustle back and froth
Or the strangers walking down the road.
Kept looking for it everywhere
In children's play, in a color's smear
The rainbow after the rain
In joyous moments,
In frustrations and in pain
Have I done it yet?
I sit back and think
What have I done wrong?
Where has my inspiration gone?
My paper lays untouched
No words written, no scratches or cuts
Waiting to unfold a new story
Am I not seeing enough?
I am trying to figure it out
With a pen and a paper
I wrote it all out
'Inspiration' it said on the blank page.
I listed the things that I didn't see
Million words that the wind whispered
The beauty of the trees, those leaves
Innocence of crying childern
The significance of color, to the eyes that are blind
A rainbow to cheer up, every once in a while
The frustration and anger,
They all pass by.
What is inspiration, if you don't see it clear?
Memories of the good old days
Or a song that makes you smile
It's about giving; it's all about life.
It had been there all along
Like a shadow, it followed all the time.
But I was missing out something
I was forgetting time
Inspiration was what was happening
And also what went by
It was seeing what we really couldn't tell
Those little things of this big world
Playing right in front of our eyes.
Article Credit: @praxantp
