Hear the Song

A poem about inspiration.

Hear the Song

Through the fields wet with morning dew,

hear the song calling out to you.

Up from the ground and into the sky,

feel all the moments passing by.

Time for the journey to begin,

a burning desire deep within.

Merely to have a slight reprieve,

monotonous days we now will leave.

Just one step and more to follow;

over the hills and through the hollow.

Listening to the babbling brook,

peering into each cranny and nook.

Follow the notes, where they may lead;

to places remote, tangled with weeds.

The melody light pulls you along.

Against it to fight would be all wrong.

It is your guide, and even your muse.

Feelings so right, cannot be refused.

So you forge on, knowing not where.

Here you belong, searching for there.

That which obstructs, now overcome.

We have been taught, not to succumb.

Finding our ears, the music does swell.

Soothing our fears, ringing like bells.

What we have sought, precious the gift;

cannot be bought, burdens to lift.

Why do we follow, what could have drawn us?

A tale for the morrow may be upon us.

It is but a spark, flames to ignite;

lighting the dark, claiming the night.

A simple refrain, is all we require.

With a single grain, we are inspired.