(Finding) My still small voice...

Learning to find my voice, after years of hiding it..

I remember myself as a child..
Feeling locked away inside myself speechless..
Always internalizing, rationalizing, compromising
I never felt like I would ever experience total release.
Children were to be seen, and never heard
A rule we lived under in a small army called a family..
My voice grew small and inconsequential.

The venom of being shushed as it were,  ran through me.
Anger, frustration and pain abound in my belly
but boys were never allowed to cry.. hungry or not.
I felt many things.. and joy often graced my face
but bliss and excitement seldom joined in..
my joy was usually driven by my own eccentric mind..
boys were not suppose to carry on in such foolish tantrums
I swallowed hard and downed my still small voice..

As the teen years came and forced themselves upon me..
I grew gangly, long and awkward.. despised in myself..
To shy in my appearance, I let vanity take yet another small piece of my song.
I feared being shunned by the sharp wit and cunning of bitter tongues
I relented and let others speak my needs, and fill my mouth with their crass.

My anger became resentment, my frustration became rage
My pain a constant torment, often unheard.. I stood in silence unable to articulate.
Bliss and excitement, the foolish exuberance of my inner child was pushed ever deeper
so far down it could not find it's way back to the top.. and joy.
Well joy.. it tasted rather plain, dulled to a less then fulfilling existence.

As a young man.. I found myself wandering aimlessly..
Never knowing were to find help, or how to ask for it.
Trapped in a world that had no time for the ignorant, no time for me.
Jumping from lover to lover, unexpressed I found no relief..
Sadness filled the remainder of my half full glass, it brimmed over the top
skating down a slippery slope, it consumed everything it came in contact with,
even the remainder of my still small voice..

Love came and found me, cursing me as I am..
At least that's what I thought.. but.. as life settled, so did I..
I settled in the offering, not at all what I was needing..
I settled in my thinking.. and never gave resistance..
I swallowed hard the resentment that soon followed.

Fatherhood came.. when life finally thought me ready
My children my voice.. I spoke with loving hands..
I spoke with a generous heart.. I spoke warm embrace,
with kind eyes, soft and subtle, never offering a bitter tongue
but a gentle,  quiet reaffirming..
void of voice, I left my mark.
 
They taught me to stand up and be counted
to lash out at equality, and never settle for less then what I want.
to speak with action, leaving undo criticism to the naysayers
to do it for them, for they could not..
My voice trickled forth...

As I have grown older.. wiser in aged years
I have filled my life with many things, people called friends.
Contented I am full.. full of eclectic odds and ends
some cantankerous, and boisterous, lively or hardened
busy bodied in their own resentments, and failures
I have grown wise in my approach, trying never to offend
I have grown wise in my mutter, not to upset the applecart..

I am not the most eloquent poetaster.. nor the most clever writer
I am not even above average in intelligence, but I have found tranquility
Yet a simple man.. looking, digging for truth, for dignity, absolution
to shed my anger, my rage, and find that ever elusive release..
The piece that I have been missing all these years..
My still small voice..

Reviews

[Deviant Works]

Now wiping the tears from my eyes... You are a genius. A master of words. I could sit for hours reading and never grow bored. A small voice which rings in my ears. I hope you never become silent again. I pray you continue to share, helping writers like me aspire to be something more than a small voice.

[Kymoo]

This is just awesome, from your powerful voice. We are never too old to bring forth the child in us, or speak our mind, or live for love and happiness. It will always be our given right. Life is too short. Glad I stopped to read your work.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

This was so amazinging! I was in awe as I read each and every line!!

[luciddreamer]

I so understand this write....touched me deeply...
Peace
Robin

[.]

. moved to tears ... i am an adult survivor of severe child abuse ... dying to adopt a girl child from an orphanage ... i want to name her aparajita (the one who can never be defeated) ... there are days when i feel so small that i wish i would just perish ... but words love me ... and they love you too ... and as long as they do ... there is a little aparajita inside me and you ... :) ...

[Crowley]

A voice that reaches the rafters and then some. Really a touching and nostalgic read for me, you outdid yourself. Made my evening.

[Goodbye]

Rediscovering the still small voice is an adventure at any age - then to cultivate it and make it the dominant voice - an exercise in full, free flights...

Well, well penned!

[Nancy Lee Shrader]

This I really like. I grew up in an era when children were to be seen, but not heard. However in my family I was allowed to be heard, which helped me grow.

[Wondering Mind]

Anything but small, my friend. This is a beautiful and touching view of the you that you share with us here

[KAREN]

Very good indeed! Your children helped you in a way that nobody else could! They help you find your still small voice which was there all alone, but needed some help emerging!!

[Shasta]

Kylie recommended you and I am happy she did. I was not prepared for this poem, so beautiful, so honest. In only a page I felt as if I got to know the core of you. When you spoke of your children, having a voice through them, I had goosebumps. Must read more.