Finding My Voice

I don’t know why
the caged bird
sings.
I didn’t sing ‘til
I was free,
and now I’m
making up for
all the years
that I was
silent.

Disconcerted, I couldn’t
be sure of my own voice,
wasn’t convinced it made
a difference, and grew
quiet and apathetic.

Finding one’s voice is like
learning to make music.
Starting from the rudimentary
beginning, note by note, until
the smallest fragment finds its
fit within the whole. Nothing
is inconsequential, not even
silence (especially silence).

I found my voice through
putting words to music.
Hear it in the songs of birds.
Nurture it in stillness.
God sent me on a pilgrimage
to see what gifts I would
return with.

LBM 1/24/04