Time is wind, flowing through me

Some inspire me to fly

Push against my senses

Take that bottomless leap into nothingness

 

At the edge of the precipice

Any help can seem dangerous

Yet some leaps of faith

Have nets to catch you at the bottom

 

That is what he felt like

A net, support surrounded by falling

He pushed me off a cliff

To take the trip I had longed for

 

It was his job, his calling

To be an Inspirationist

Curly haired, brown-eyed soul that spoke softly

But meant volumes to my ears

 

He helped me find a voice

Within a deafening white silence

A dark beam cutting through the light

My very own Inspirationist

 

He gave my soul away to writing

My dilipitated heart left bleeding on a page

Pouring out my hidden feelings

My very own Inspirationist

 

Pulling away the magic curtain

Revealed the secret trade

Penmanship and words hidden from my view

I smile today because I had you

 

My very own Inspirationist.