Voice

The voice is loud, so intense and powerful it brings ringing to the ears. Creative moments from the voice spur ideas, thoughs and reflections that otherwise may not have been found. Booming, like thunder on the darkest, rainiest days, the voice commands attention. Such that, all activity, no matter how important must cease.

Sometimes the voice is quieter, as if relenting to being ignored. I can but faintly hear it's whispering in these moments. I listen so hard, with such intent, but the whisper does not grow loud. What happened to this great and powerful voice, this magnificent force that could take hold at any moment?

The voice is quiet, not even the whisper anymore. It's deafening this silence, I feel alone, naked. I derived such joy from the voice, such inspiration, where did it go? Come back!

In a quick moment, a sonic boom blasts through the dark, silent reaches of my psyche. Such a powerful noise that it can not be ignored. I was stunned, this familiar thing, this ringing in my head, it....it is...it is the voice, returning and will not be ignored.

For so long the tortured silence of lost creativity has reigned over this space. So many moments untapped, such inspirations passed. Not this time, this time I embrace the voice, this time I hold it dear. This time I write and rhyme, sing and play. This time I can hear.