There is a voice in each of us
Like a diamond in our cellar, hidden for years, discovered with delight
A voice that arises from a place of seeing and knowing
A voice Ted Hughes called our primary self
Which can be mislaid for a moment, for days, for years, a life time
Drowned out or trampled down by the chaos, the fear, the rage, the anxiety, the shame or depression
We use other voices, substitutes, whose origins are less grand
We make do with words that are not our own but get us by
Though our true voice remains, like a burbling bubbling spring, all fresh, daring, curious, fearless and clean
Ready as the wind, always ready
And when wakened, it arises from pure will; from trust rather than fear
When it speaks, creation sings
It may cut or it may heal, it may do both
But our voice appears in the world, like a full moon rising, like a child at birth
