Voices

I was 12 and there was a creek.

It was deep, clear, blue and green.

I stepped along two rocks, in to a ravine.

Between a rock of struggle and one of choice.

It was in the distance I heard a voice.

‘She wasn’t quiet, not quite loud.

I can still hear her through the crowd.

I was 22 and there was a river.

It was cold, bringing a bone-chilling shiver.

It was up close and personal I heard a voice.

I can still hear his words.

He didn’t give me a choice.

I was 34 and there was a lake.

It was still and it was reflective,

causing me to feel introspective.

I heard a voice, but it was just in my head.

It told me I was more alive than dead.

I grabbed on to an old tree stump

and draped myself along it.

Stronger, at peace…with the voices gone

but myself, I know I can belong.

I see my tomorrow now, casting shadows off the water.

I am not just my mother‘s daughter

or a victim of fear.

When I look up, now it’s the stars I hear.

Rain made my path -

it’s real now, no turning back.