The sound of sheer silence,
Fights to be heard amongst the clatter and clamour,
Still the battering fears,
The questions that scream,
The anguish that points and pokes,
And tries to suffocate my space,
Doubts that roar in the tumultuous wind,
Accusations that pierce my awareness fired by the storm,
Insecurities crashing in my head in the fall of a great river,
In the noise I hear no voice but my own,
My weak voice, my raw voice, my tired voice.
My voice bringing me down, destroying my confidence, prodding my wounds.
Stand, still.
Stand, still.
Stand, still.
Do not hear the storm, the wind, the rain.
Hear instead the sound of sheer silence.
Hear the voice in peace,
Hear the voice of peace,
Hear the voice… peace.
1 Kings 19:11-13
PICTURA POESIS 