Inspiration   by R. C., Westford, MA



I usually don't feel this way. Usually each word seems like a brick that I must carefully mold before hauling it into its place on the page. But sometimes a tree springs up in my brain, with a word hanging from every branch. The words drop like leaves in autumn, and flow like a raging river from my head, down my arm, through my pen, and onto the paper. Words, then sentences, then paragraphs, flood page after page like a heavy rainstorm filling up a dry basin. I feel as though I cannot move my hand fast enough to keep up with the downpour of ideas streaming forth from my mind. The world around me - the desk, the room, the noise - fades away into a blur, as I sit there alone with only pen and paper, and my writing. Usually I don't feel like this. Usually writing each paragraph feels like erecting a pyramid, and distractions lure my eyes and thoughts away from the page. But sometimes inspiration hits, and mind and pen become one, pouring words onto the page.