Sometimes I want to reach out,
yet no words come.
Trying to talk though the void so the world doesn’t forget my voice,
more painful than being forgotten.
So I stay quiet.
Still working, loving, caring, dreaming,
but in the background of the noisy world.
Less outreach, more inner reach.
Sometimes I need to be quiet,
to sink into the comfort of silence,
for awhile,
until my world upends itself again.
I allow the bumpy flow of life to pull me along as it sees fit,
until I find I have found my feet again,
my voice finds her true resonance again,
the words can be found,
again.
Here there is no void to reach across,
instead a rich space craving new life to be grown.
And just like that I know my world has upended itself.
As it always does,
when I trust my rhythm,
my life,
and the quiet,
to do what they will always naturally do.
Allow me to find what is true,
now,
what is essential to say,
now,
where the treasures are,
now.
To remember newly,
how the creative flow is never dry.
It just sometimes calls for silence,
and the subtler senses to lead the way.