The
autumn leaves danced circles around Melody whose inner symphony was not in
harmony with the weather.
“Never change your mind.” Her
grandmother’s parting words resounded in her thoughts. "Once you have made up
your mind to become a poet, go for it.”
“Grandma,” thought Melody. “You
were always my inspiration, but now you are gone. My heart is no longer singing.
How can I keep on writing poetry when my heart is not in it?” She brushed away
the salty tears streaming down her cheeks. Her loss seemed too much to bear, as
she stumbled along the pathway.
“I have lost my inspiration.”
Suddenly, a faint whimper resounded
in the wind.
“That is not me whimpering,”
thought Melody. “I feel like a lost puppy, but I don’t whimper, do I?” she
asked herself.
The
whimper resounded again, this time, a bit louder.
“That is a very young pup,”
thought Melody to herself. “Come here, sweetie,” she called out gently.
“Let your heart sing aloud,” the
wind seemed to say.
She began to hum.
“Sing louder.”
Melody started to sing the words
of a song she had been working on prior to her grandmother’s death.
“Take my spirit of sadness, Lord
and give me a spirit of gladness, Lord.”
The whimpering stopped.
“How
can I find you?” Melody wondered and began to
sing louder. “Take my spirit of sorrow and
bring me a new joy tomorrow.”
The wind began to howl. There
was a flash of lightning accompanied by a clap of thunder, followed by a burst
of raindrops. It was getting darker by the moment.
Melody
heard another whimper. This time it seemed to come from under the bush by her
feet. She looked down and was amazed to see a pair of soulful, dark eyes gazing
upward at her. As she reached into the bush to pick up the frightened black pup,
she recalled her grandmother’s words. “Never change your mind.”
“Thank you, grandma,” sang
Melody softly, as she snuggled the cold, wet pup inside her coat. “I needed
this inspiration.”
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