From where does inspiration come? Is it the same for everyone or do we come by inspiration in ways meant only for one? Perhaps it is a little of both.

I have found myself repeating some phrase I (over)heard or saw and later it becomes part of something else as more words form around. Something from a conversation sticks in my mind and a poem is born. Sometimes, while out walking, whether it be near a lake or along a busy city road, things I see bring thoughts and feelings to the surface. Other times I have been reading, lying in the dark, taking a shower, listening to music, driving the back roads and words will enter my mind and I know they need a place to go. It is all things in life(the very marrow of life)- the color, the silence, the sounds, the sorrow or happy, the dark and the light where inspiration waits to be found or as is often the case... pounce.

From the poem "Inspiration" by Henry David Thoreau:

Such is the Muse, the heavenly maid,

The star that guides our mortal course,

Which shows where life's true kernel's laid,

It's wheat's fine flour, and its undying force.

May the Muse guide you and inspiration find you always. May you be open to hearing and feeling it all when it does come.