Amongst other things, I’m
a musician – my degree’s in music and I’m a music teacher…
Over
the years, then, I’ve sung with many choirs and ensembles, big and small.
Singing with others, it’s essential that I have a voice. However, if I don’t
also listen carefully to all the other voices, and pay attention to them, and
make sure that my voice is in accord with theirs, in harmony with the whole,
and helping to make the overall sound more as it should be, then it would be
better for me to remain silent.
Likewise,
in everyday life, it’s important to find one’s own voice and, having found it,
to use it – to speak out and to be heard. This is indisputable, I think, in the
interest of fairness and, where we see people who don’t have a voice, or whose
voices are not heard, those of us who are more fortunate try – hopefully – to
use our advantage to help them to their own emancipation; to a place where
they, too, have a voice and where that voice is heard.
Perhaps,
though, it’s even more important to listen - try to understand where other
voices are coming from – other human voices and our own internal voices and the
voices of the Universe, or of Divinity itself.
Just
as when I’m singing with a choir, it’s through listening that we are able to
put our own voices in the context of the whole, to use them in a way that’s
positive and affirming and to make sounds with them that are beautiful and
useful and good.
I Will Speak
I
will be still
and
hear the whisper of the world,
the
song of stars
and
the symphony of the spheres.
I’ll
listen, with all my inner and outer ears
-
and hear.
In
the silence, full of murmurings,
I’ll
listen for the wisdom that quietude brings
-
absorb the Still Small Voice,
the
Eternal Breath,
assimilate
the mysteries of life and death
and
rest in stillness and solitude…
...And
maybe,
then,
I’ll
speak.
Speak
like a creeper,
like
clematis climbing silent and strong,
fragility
making love to stone and coaxing it to life.
Speak
like scallop shells,
with
the whisper of the ocean
and
the promise of pearls that shimmer and shine
-
not to be cast before swine,
but
spun before morning to sunshine’s gold.
Speak
like the mountain stream
that
cannot be restrained,
bubbling
up from the gestating dark
to
flow exuberant
-
to journey and grow,
water
of life through valleys and cities
and
onwards, to the welcoming sea…
Speak
as tonic and trickster,
restoring
and provoking in equal measure.
Speak
words that are heard, and felt and seen.
So,
I will speak;
but
listen first, and last,
and ever in between.
and ever in between.
Ruth Calder Murphy is
a writer, artist, music teacher, wife and mother living in London, UK. Her life
is wonderfully full of creativity and low-level chaos. She is the author of two
published novels, “The Scream" and "The Everlasting Monday",
several books of poetry and one or two as-yet unpublished novels. She is
passionate about celebrating the uniqueness of people, questioning the
unquestionable and discovering new perspectives on old wonders. She is learning
to ride the waves that come along—peaks and troughs—and is waking up to just
how wonderful life really is. More of Ruth's Spiritual poetry, with intros
can be found in her book, "Spirit Song" and the soon-to-be-released
sequel, "River Song". You can
visit Ruth and view more of her art on her website, or on her writer's page on Facebook. Her books are
available on Amazon, here.
~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~
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