Finding My Voice

A poet once sang, that when
pain finally finds a voice,
at that moment, art is born

Benumbed beyond the reach of pain,
I flailed my arms against the vacuum
within the bell jar which held me, for a decade.

Words were the window through which I
Caught glimpses beyond the dark
Words that kept my heart thawed, if not warm.

On a day when the words shone
bright enough to see, I opened the window
and walked out into life.  With a fifteen year old

Mind, in a decade older body. Free
At last, from the darkness that had fed upon
Many of those whose words freed me.

While my wings were tied, I had still dared
to dream of the skies. But once free, I could barely
walk and fell many times before I found my voice.

The detour from regular paths of life that I may
have walked otherwise turned the lost years into a voice
strengthened by a decade of singing in the dark.

A voice that now colours each moment gold.
Each breath a swig of light, each word a blessing.
I had assumed that words would bring

Catharsis – an uncomfortable word
But I sing, and find with unexpected joy
That it is alchemy that goes into making a voice.

(4 September, 2015)

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