Smile

Looking for a cup this morning for my awakening hot beverage, I remembered one that I had found years ago in a small shop somewhere. On a plain white background a manual typewriter with the words "Write your own story" in typeset worked to inspire me. For a while, until life took over and snuffed my flame yet again. I removed this once inspirational cup from its place among other cups with other meanings. I sipped hot tea from my motivational vessel while I contemplated my continuous discovery and loss of inspiration. I decided I would not let it slip away from me this time. I gathered my laptop and notepad. I grabbed the notes I'd asked some inmates to write me about their lives, and I headed to my cafe. 

I sit now at the Rising Sun. I've been served my coffee in cup that tells me to smile. And so I do.

I sit back in my little booth and allow a slow smile to take over my face while I scan the crowd of patrons who are eating, talking, laughing, and drinking their own cups of smiles. It's Saturday, and it's quite crowded. There is pleasant looking couple occupying the seat I normally choose--the seat I was drawn to the first time I entered my new place of writing. As I look longingly toward my preferred seat, I see something I've never noticed. How could I sit each day taking in all that is around me and miss this right above my head watching over me?

A snow-white wolf has been resting gently, seemingly contemplating life much like me, and she has been watching as my inspiration and passion return. My heart is resting easy knowing that I will continue to be guided through what is sure to be an arduous journey.

The inspiration is so strong within me that I am finally continuing The Brook Would Have No Music. It's only been a few years--5 or 6 I believe. I'm ready. It's time...