I have the urge to create something beautiful,
but these walls do not inspire me at all.
I have spent years studying the grain of their wood,
the brush strokes in their paint,
and the scuffs they have accumulated over the years.
They are the same as they were years ago,
and do not inspire me at all.

I can hear nature calling to me—
a whisper carried in the wind
that brushes the trees against my bedroom exterior.
I can hear my name murmured in the leaves,
echoing through the still silence of the Appalachians.

I have the urge to create something beautiful,
but this small town does not inspire me at all.
I have seen the green grass, cracked streets,
and calm rivers stay the same for twenty years.
The inspiration found in these waters dried up long ago,
leaving the banks barren.

I will up and leave in search of inspiration and beauty.
I will dip my feet in the Great Lakes
and speed through the expansive plains,
immersing myself in a life I have not yet lived.
I will be watched over by clouds bigger
and rivers wider than I have ever seen before.

I will find inspiration in the Rockies.
I will climb mountains
and create prolific writings in my head.
I will bask in the golden glow of sunrise
atop the summits that surround me,
and the whole world will be in my view.
I will grow wiser with each mile that passes by me.

I have found beauty
and fully immersed myself in its warm glow.
I have found inspiration on the peaks of mountains
and in the cold of glacial melt.
I have walked the Earth
and discovered what inspiration truly is.

I have found inspiration in all of it.
The walls of my bedroom
and the cracked streets of a small town
have inspired me to move on and start anew.
The Appalachians bestowed their ancient wisdom upon me,
and the Rockies taught me to be young again.
The beauty of nature has surrounded me my whole life,
and has inspired me to create something beautiful—
I just didn’t realize it.