Who needs to speak?
Whose voice is drowned out,
by the chaos and the clamor?
Whose words are swept away
in the current of the river?
Are the meek ready to prosper?
Or are they shaken when they whisper,
the words
that will condemn the world?
Have you suffered
for your brother?
Have you sinned
for your sister?
Have you eaten
from the bodies
of those
who died in winter?
Are you a lover?
a survivor?
Or a fighter
with dented armor?
Have you tasted
of the battle
and now you’re hooked
on war and karma?
Have you shouted from the rooftops
every secret
of your lost years?
Have you been trying
to speak the words,
but they won’t come,
all you get is tears?
Has the grief come
like a grave stone?
Have the fear grown
to make you stop
feeling good things,
altogether blocked
from the words
that could unlock
your heart,
and your soul,
and your love,
and your hate,
and your mind.
Speaking the truth of you
breaking to let out the light.
So much forms up
to keep you in a silent descent.
Rise to the day
with your heart free of loss and regret.
Hearing your voice
cry out in the wilderness,
speaking your world
into a new existence.
Silence is reserved for the dead;
make noise while you can.
HG – 2016
