Whispering Voices In My Ears

Whispering Voices In My Ears

Whispering voices in my ears,

soft as breath against the skin,

they speak of moments I once lived,

and moments I still carry within.

They follow me through waking hours,

through half lit rooms and open air,

arriving when I least expect them,

settling quietly, already there.

Some speak in tones of former days,

of places etched into my mind,

where laughter lingered in the walls,

and time felt slower, more inclined.

Others arrive with heavier words,

reminders wrapped in gentle sound,

of lessons learned the harder way,

of strength I found while breaking ground.

They rise when silence fills the room,

when night has folded in its light,

and thoughts grow louder than the world,

no longer hidden by the sight.

These voices do not come to harm,

they do not ask me to retreat,

they stand beside my quiet thoughts,

and teach my heart how to repeat.

They tell me I am still in motion,

even when my feet stand still,

that living leaves its marks in time,

shaped by patience as much as will.

So I allow them space to speak,

without defence or need to flee,

for whispering voices in my ears,

have learned the truth of who I be.