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Voices

Listen to the voices: cacophony, perhaps, but only at first.

    

Animal voices, tree voices, fish voices:

Trout shouts with a slap of his tail upon glassy lake

Orca sings a harmony far, far off.


Ash and oak whisper to each other,

leaves rustling in gentle breeze.


Lion roars as Sun guilds the savanna sky with radiance:

A voice of a mammal and a voice of warm photons.


Listen closely: individual voices emerge amongst the hum of rising sea temperatures.

Coffee-shop chatter: human voices, willfully ignorant.

Insurrectionists screaming their credos, claps of thunderous violence.

Two lovers entwined whisper in ecstasy: the voice of joyous sex.


Populists, echo-chambers of the powerful reverberate with senseless platitudes—

incoherent self-congratulatory-grunting-gravely, grating, death-rattles…


Choking screams of something precious:

the perishing voices of suffering, democratic-thirsty, freedom loving human individuals.

Will our children have to purchase clean air to breath or die of thirst first?

We are out of more than formula.  We need some better formulas.

What of the city-sized piles of plastic bottles pulsing in the oceans?

The only space-ship we have is almost beyond repair, and

we CANNOT get off either.


Digital voices: the clock ticks on as we click through TikTok: what voice is this?

Gas signs blast $5.09/gal.

A bank board reads 103 degrees, it’s barely late Spring.  

The ticker scrolls Feds .75% interest increase….

will it cool down the moans of rampant inflation?


High Street in Columbus is jostling with gay voices of celebration.

I stop and listen, such beautiful voices emerge, human voices.

I try to drown out the haters over there, but then too they seem so human and, and … 

How is it that dogma dictates a penetrating hiss of “Faggot”.


Voices of distant thunder: 

troubles and tribulations, 

REVELATIONS of stupendous, catastrophic, corrosive explosions of a planet in crisis.  


It’s all so LOUD and overwhelming, we just want it all to be calm and q-u-i-e-t.


Will there be enough? Turning inward is terrifying.

Outwardly, to the voice asking: How are you? 

We make a noise that sounds like “great”.


An individual’s shoulders heave in despair: how is a transgender homeless woman to survive?

The proverbial tree is about to fall over, but the caring observer is missing.  

Many, too many, lie silent: mute, quited.


This gay man’s thoughtful voice hums, no, pounds-out this soulful requiem: voices.

The small gay pride flag in the corner of this friendly coffee-shop raises his hopes.

Even a silent flag voice, says something to this man.


Invisibility is real.  Until, yes, until we look.  It’s not too hard to see either.

Silence is real.  Until…yes, until we pay attention, and thoughtfully use our voices for healing.  


All along gentle voices of hope have been whispering and inviting us to hear.


Break the silence.  Voice your fear, and voice your truth.


“I’m gay.”


It was at first my noiseless uncomprehended reality.  

No amount of spirited-prayer-infused-god-breathing-speaking

could animate those ridged bones of reality.  

Ezekiel’s Bones?  Hmm finally the field of bones has become a living voice.


Pride is here. Let our voices join in joy.

In protest

In ACTION

Strong voices of peace and love.



 


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