We all seek that spark of inspiration.
We crave its challenge, relish its rewards,
welcome its trigger; its motivation;
its promise of profit … as such affords.
Inspiration is an essence; of sorts,
an energy, a fine spirit at best.
It’s a shapeless elixir that contorts
the grip of reason with a dose of zest.
It’s the will of conviction with fresh claim
to a stale idea, it’s the modern twist,
the contemporary spin; it’s the vim, the flame
that fires-up passion … it’s stamina’s grist.
. Inspiration is that breath of fresh air
. that fuels a flicker to generate flare.
© Tim Grace, 20 January 2012
To the reader: Inspiration is something more than motivation. Both nouns describe an action. We can be motivated to do all manner of tasks that are hardly inspiring; the reverse is harder to imagine. Unlike motivation, inspiration finds its source beyond basic needs; and further more, is not dependent upon base rewards to maintain an interest. The mark of genuine inspiration is enthusiasm.
To the poet: Another sonnet that took some stubborn shaping; thought pieces are like that. The poem’s theme is inspiration and should have been delivered through the guise of enthusiasm; instead, it reads like a cerebral exercise. The final couplet once read: “Welcome inspiration with open arms… it’s the antidote to worrisome qualms”. A nice couplet, but the sonnet wasn’t about worry’s antidote; it was about the spirit of inspiration.
One More Sonnet 