Quote of the Day:  a poem

by Linda Pastan
No angel speaks to me.
And though the wind
plucks the dry leaves
as if they were so many notes
of music, I can hear no words.
Still, I listen.  I search
the feathery shapes of clouds
hoping to find the curve of a wing.
And sometimes, when the static
of the world clears just for a moment
A small voice comes through,
chastening.  Music
is its own language, it says.
Along the indifferent corridors
of space, angels could be hiding.

Joy comes to me in the form of children and music.

In planting and watching things grow, the trees, the boys, relationships.

Joy happens when you let your silly out and your playfulness in.

Joy comes from trying a recipe just because it’s in your math homework.
Did you know that inspiration is contagious?  I’ve been inspired by the students and people that I’ve let into my life.  From your comments here, and in person, I’ve learned that from my inspiration, you felt more empowered to become your authentic selves. 
One night, I woke myself up as my hand rose above my covers, playing air piano.  I smiled to myself.  I heard the music that I’ve let into my house.  I remembered the laughter.  Laughed out loud, to myself, my happy dream, and went back to sleep.
Go. Create. Inspire! And, dream happy dreams filled with inspiration.
Journaling Prompt:  Write about a dream, a night dream or a day dream, that made you smile or laugh.