Schubert's Inspiration

“My compositions spring from my sorrows.

Those that give the world the greatest delight

were born of my deepest griefs.”

Franz Schubert

It arrived in a shift of wind, disheveling his hair,

in gray clouds eclipsing his steel-point pen,

amid rain mingling with tears, splattering the paper

in his hands, smearing the ink, notes bleeding into notes.

It arrived in lightning that lit the cypress-covered hills

with a brilliant flash of blinding white and a crash

that left bells ringing in his ears. It came in the thunder

of a thousand hammers, in hail pelting the ground

around his boots like percussion, the rhythm driving him

forward like a march. It appeared in a flood of notes

crashing over the limits of his mind, spilling

onto paper and astonishing the concert hall.

Creative Writing Class