# 493: Inspiration

Silke Schmidt
2 min readOct 11, 2023

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Lebanon Poetry

© Silke Schmidt

What do you mean?

Where do you come from?

Is it really your breath

That lights our soul?

Why do I ask?

So many questions.

It is enough

To have you

To feel you

To live with you.

Sudden impulse

No time to lose

Hands flying

With the pen.

God is in it

No doubt remains

“You touched me.”

Words so tender

Is there a return?

After inspiration

Can you go back?

Writing is calling.

No other way.

Poetry is faith

Faith in poetry.

“They teach philosophy.”

Too much brain

Too little humanism.

Spreading inspiration?

Or just absorbing.

The soul is all

A fountain of love.

Machines replace it?

Want to play God?

Why find names?

I would die

If you were gone

No need to fear

Still struggling

To burst the chains

Have always known

You were inside

When you hide

I am not myself.

So many options

Just one calling

It is a gift

And a burden as well

“Go away”

I did say

Rather feel numb

Than with a locked soul

That is sinful

Neglecting your gifts

Never thought

Would meet you here

Amongst the ancient

Churches and preachers

That is a sign

I know it well.

Knowing means feeling

For the poet in heart

Just more patience

Is all I need

Please continue

To bother me

Getting closer to you

By running away.

Will keep touching

The lost souls

Will give them strength

To listen to you

Maybe that is it

A simple faith

Just getting out

What is inside

No other teachings

No church to attend

Just being and writing

Inspiration in all

For all

And forever living.

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