#TRULYINSPIREDBLOG Well here we go, we are live!

There are a few stories here to start off, and hopefully many more to come. None are in any kind of order, I think we tend to remember different parts of our story at different times in our lives, and that's how this will likely read. 

I've always enjoyed writing, and always considered blogging as a particularly intriguing form. But I was never quite brave enough to embark upon this ship. However, when the world around us dramatically changes, new things come into focus. Areas of our life are re-awakened. Being put in a position which demands you to re-organize your day into a fresh and different routine, sometimes leaves space for new and exciting things we never had room for before. And here I have found my place to allow for new (and old) creativity to blossom. Please read kindly, I may be a teacher (by some education and a piece of paper hanging on a wall somewhere,) but that does not mean I'm in anyway good and perfect in all things writing. My grammar and punctuation will not be perfect--and I don't intend them to be. I write the way I speak, and I do hope this new medium will become a form of conversation. I want to remember these days. I want to remember them for what they are, right now.  To anyone who finds themselves here, thanks for spending some time in my words. I'm hoping this writing will offer an opportunity to reflect, escape, even create along with me.  These are unprecedented times, and some days it may feel like we're fighting to see the sunshine. But I can see hope, even in the collective emotion that seems to be turning the world at the present time. I sincerely hope you do too. Whether it be in the brave helpers in our community, or simply in the beauty of your current stay-at-home life. So in this very different time, here I will turn towards my innermost self and get back to something that has been burning for quite sometime. Thanks for being here with me.

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The Forgotten
Icy winds sweep the ground,
Whistle by without sound.
 

The evergreen, it bends and trembles, 
As the clouds seem to assemble.

Strangers hustle through the street,
Not a smile, none can speak.

Flowers peak behind green lips,
Budding secrets begin their slip.

 

A great trumpet shakes the ground,
And ears, they perk to ancient sounds.

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By, Yours Truly.