For a while
my words seemed
to not be heard.
They seemed
to lash out
against each other,
for a while,
as the anger tried to find
its place,
as all that wasn’t right
found its way
to the surface.
And so I began to honor
all these fractured pieces
and assure them
that they did indeed belong,
that they were heard
in me.
And I freed them.
I let them go,
set them free —
trusting them to come back
a little less fractured,
in way that could be heard,
in whatever form needed —
to keep speaking
what was true,
perhaps a little
more gently
or more directly
or with just enough
passion and restraint —
until they fell silent —
into the place
where there was
no more distance
between the speaking
and the listening.
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🙂
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🙂
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Love this! Love the passion! That is so me, I get so passionate when I speak about things I care about 💖
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I think that is a good thing 💓
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I think so too ☺️
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