Inspiration from an unlikely place

Inspiration calls a
Clear trumpet blast
Crystalline
Is that the beating of a drum or just
Your heart racing to the beat
As a racehorse
Charging down the track mouth frothing eyes glistening wide open
Hooves thump down and crunch the ground
Is that the jazzy melody of a saxophone?
Straining to be heard in the dreamy city
Vying for a spot in a world of competition
Or is it another whisper on
The wind?
Can your ears pick up the
Sweet notes of a harp
The charmer, coaxing a small smile
To begin and slowly spread
Where is the music in
The barren stretch of your
Imagination?
Is it hiding in the tall grasses swaying in the
Winds of thoughts that flow through your mind
Buried beneath the rocky soil, the grubby ground?
Take up your rusty shovel which may
Cut your hands and infect your
Senses. Take up that shovel and
Begin to scrape away at the dirt
Keep digging even after your fingers start to
Bleed
Because buried somewhere in the thousands of miles under the
Earth is your
Music
The harp, the saxophone, the racehorse with his galloping feet
They are waiting