My Voice

One night
Under the witness of starlight
I snuck into the garden
Knelt in the midnight-dark soil
And planted my tiny voice in the moonlit earth

It would not grow inside my throat
You see
There was no room for it there
So I had to pluck the small, fragile thing out

I knew it had things to say
Experiences to share
Stories to weave with the help of breath and feeling
But it was failing to thrive inside my throat
A smothered and guttering spark

I knew it would grow roots in the rich earth
After all
It was closest to the ancestors' bones
I knew that when the sun rose it would grow
And when the rain fell it would drink deep

I fertilized it with poetry
Tended it with song
And sure enough it grew bit by bit
It became a hardy thing
A beautiful thing full of strength and confidence

One morning
In the light of dawn
I dug it up and swallowed it down
One giant gulp
It flipped and turned as it settled 
Leaving my throat raw and aching

When it  finally stilled
 I spoke
My voice emerged rich and warm
It did not waiver or whisper
I began to tell my stories and sing my songs
And when I was shushed
My voice resounded like a thunderclap

It would never be small again

-gws