In these days of ‘constantly on’ – when we are endlessly pouring over our social media, when our phones are constantly pinging with the latest message and our email never seems to go silent – it can be difficult to find true inspiration. From time to time, I’d like filter out the noise and share with you those snippets of inspiration that I have found particularly helpful. This poem by Erin Hanson is the first:

In my old town there was a girl,

Who dropped seeds everywhere she went,

While all the boys carved out their names,

In any patch of wet cement.

They’d laugh at her and tell her

She would never make her mark

If all she left behind her

Were some falling leaves and bark.

So I wonder if they’ve been back,

Since we grew and left that place,

Or if they all still carry markers,

In their pockets just in case,

Because I’d love to see their faces,

If I told them what I’ve seen:

That the streets where we once played,

Now drown beneath a sea of green

And their names scratched on the sidewalk

Weren’t as eternal as they’d planned

For in the place where they once wrote them

An endless forest proudly stands.

Would they tell that girl they’re sorry

If they ever had the choice

For not knowing those worth hearing

Don’t always have the loudest voice?

That in the future all the things we do

Will still have an effect

And that sometimes those who change the world

Are those you least expect.

(Erin Hanson)