Whispers.

I have voice in my lungs
And speak gently
This is my truth:
It’s not about you –
Though there may yet
Be storms and calamity,
These seas will be stilled
By peaceful mastery –
Never by control from
Another – the direction’s
My choice and my right
To decide to turn
Rudders and sails in
Any direction – to join
The tide or to struggle
And fight
For a path
Which cuts through
To chosen destiny.
You’ll try in vain
To drain the sea,
Or to bottle the winds,
Or to wrestle control
Of my vessel from me –
All are mistaken and
You’ll only tire out,
Your belly will rumble
And ache and the wildness
Of winds never will break.
My vessel will ever be
Free to embark or to
Drift as my soul
Sees fit – you’ll
Only be torn from
Your shores and divided
Limb from limb.
So listen my love,
When gentle hearts
Roar in whispers
Making sweet requests –
Listen, for I’ve lost
All patience for struggle,
And fights, and untangling
My life from another who
Would attempt to snuff
Out this inner wisp
Of a light –
Thinking it a danger
Hoping to control
That which chooses
To abide for a time.
Tune your hearing to
The simple small tune
And dismiss not my
Asking for I’ve granted
Access to you
In this place
Where few ever enter
And none may stay –
Linger long as a friend
Or be on your way –
For no roughness,
Nor violence, nor
Wrath may abide –
I’ve no room here for
An enemy – only peace
Grows inside.
Slow down, take my hand,
Let us follow no lead,
For this dance has never
Been choreographed –
It’s truly divine
Birthed by creation’s
First seed.

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