All my life
I wanted to sing.

But I couldn't.

Something was broken,
something was wrong.

something was old,
something was sad,
something was silent.

I called to it,
time and time again.

Time and time again,
it would run and hide,
leave me trembling,
so afraid what I might find,
what I might say,
what I might sing,
if I would ever
find my voice.

But I never gave up.

Many years passed by.

And so often did it seem
that there was no hope,
not a one; that it
would always be this way,
that it was
all ordained to be this way,
that there was nothing
I could do.

And still, I kept on trying.

Time and time again,
I would throw my weary body
against the barriers of fear,
uncertainty, reality
and delusion, a fine line
divides them,
and one which I
could never find.

Courage.

Courage is what you need
when all seems lost.

If you don't have courage,
anger will serve;
rage will serve better,
but be careful.

Annihilation works
both ways.

And slowly,
I uncoiled.

Slowly,
I unfolded.

Slowly,
excruciatingly,
I allowed myself
to bow my head,
accept assistance,
grant a modicum
of trust,
gain a chance
of change.

Then, there came the day
when I made my way
to the beach,
to sing to the sea,
to sing with the sea,
to see
if I could sing.

The shore waited patiently.

The water wove a rhythm,
soothing, there is nothing
you can tell me
that I haven't heard
before.

So I sang.

The wind took my voice
and carried it away,
enfolded it,
and stroked my face.

The sun shone on,
steadily and it didn't blink,
didn't wink, it warmed my back
instead.

The ocean didn't change
its rhythm, so I changed mine
so we would be in harmony,
and that was right,
the right way forward,
given all the ins and outs.

As I was playing,
I was sad to think
that this was all
I had to offer;
I must try harder,
do better,
the ocean deserves better,
more from me.

Still,
when I was done,
when I fell silent,
the stones applauded
mightily,
and the ocean
rushed approval.