ShadowSpeech
A voice of joy can lift a heart.
A voice of hate brings death.
A sound of loss to bring ease one’s troubles,
Should its base find caring drums.
All in place, they site the voices—
Of colors far and wide.
But what of the last, the final piece:
The lack of all that is shouted.
The voice of reason, the sound of silence, the watching one—
I am.
Not out to all, at once to many—
But quiet; down to one.
To sooth the bark that makes the tree, so it may stand its rightful place.
To protest not, though not so brave—
In public not to speak.
But to watch the truth, to find the end, and bring this to my fellows.
To find solution covalently: equal burden, equal blame.
I find solution, not my way.
And though ghostly, shadowed behind—
Still a voice of light to help guide the flock.