i am

"Who could be so lucky? Who comes to a lake for water and sees the reflection of the moon." Rumi

A Voice


Ahead lies a road,

A long one.

The sides are filled with trees

Whose leaves hover over

My walking silhouette.

Flowers that once blossomed

In the springtime

Are now dormant.

I see shadows about-

Red stains across some;

Whispers coming from others.

Dead bodies of water-

They resemble tears that once

Tasted of joy and sorrow.

The rain falls.

My feet are weary; I drag them.

Blisters on my toes.

My legs- sprinkled with mud

My pack burdens my back and shoulders;

But I walk,

Looking to encounter a new season.

The world’s turned cold,

Dark and barbaric.

I’ve been set up.

I was told lies growing up.

I was told we are all equal.

But the shadows that

Lay beside every step I take

Tell a different story.

Some morbid; some melancholic.

Others have no voices-

Perhaps they never did.

Still walking,

I realize that I have a voice.

And just like a lotus blossoms

Out of muck

I, too, will rise.

And speak for fallen souls.

And every time I’m surrounded by mud

I know it will wash right off.

My voice will resonate,

And my frequency shall vibrate

From shore to shore, across all seas.








Photo Credit: My Opera



Author: amoonfull

A lover of arts, tea & nature.

8 thoughts on “A Voice

  1. get ’em with the light, girl!

  2. Very beautiful. Namaste.

  3. “And just like a lotus blossoms
    Out of muck
    I, too, will rise.” Love that. Beautiful!

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