The Song of Silence

In silence she waits
Curled up like a doll in the corner.
Made of porcelain
Showing cracks in her exterior
Exposing her fragility
Her humanness
Her reality

Hiding away from the world
Her talents untapped and unnoticed
She waits for it all to pass over her like a storm

A slow moving tornado anchors down right next to her
She seems unfazed by the interruption
Focused on her intentions
Pure intentions
They get stirred up
Mixed around
Like old dirty clothes in a washer.

The walls crumble in and nearly upon her
Creating a cloud of dust that clogs her eyes
Filling the holes and cracks with temporary means
Just enough exterior roughness
To strengthen her otherwise smooth unruffled appearance

She carries herself forward through life
Through the here and now
Like she is floating just above the surface
Of a vast ocean.
The currents and waves leave her unaffected
As she proceeds to remain just out of reach
Above the noise and turbulence.

She moves like a ghost
Born out of the water as it merged with the earth
Imperfect vulnerability
Inner rage
Well contained from years of trauma

She leaves this place unscathed
Like a child of light
She moves beyond what we experience here
Tied with chains and bonds
With every break a new link forms
She cannot escape her fate
She remains trapped
Like a bird in a cage.
She sings for freedom