
a still small voice
speaking to you in what seems like
your own voice
your own thoughts
Nudging you to let go
of the water slipping out of your clenched fist
of hard efforts that have come to nothing
a still small voice
that’s always lived with you
invisible like the wind
stealth like movements in the dark
yet each time it speaks
it’s warmth is like the first rays of the sun
piercing through chilly winds
to bodies longing for warmth
