I woke beneath a soundless sky, alone,
Eyes wide to songs I could not yet command,
The winds would dance, but left me stone,
A nameless echo cradled in the hand.

The ground was soft, the seasons never still,
I stumbled through the gardens of the day,
Taught first to cry, then laugh, then will
Each breath a step I shaped along the way.

The gift of voice unfurled upon my tongue,
Words poured like rivers through a broken dam,
Yet silence, too, grew heavy in my lungs,
A sacred art to know, and not to damn.

Now wiser hands would weigh the words unspoken,
The truths best left to flower in their night,
A sojourner through lands of dream and token,
I learned the louder soul must hold the quiet tight.