by MICHELE HARTE
My life was filled with many voices, too
many for me to bear,
but one voice broke through in the end, a voice that said: “I care”.
I have heard the voice of rejection even
in my Mother’s womb,
I have heard my Father’s condemnation, the voice of impending doom.
I have heard the voice of abuse
whispering in the night,
that set my soul in silent gloom and lived in constant fright.
I have heard the voice of sibling
celebrations, achieving accolades,
while the teasing voices of school mates taught me how to fade.
I have heard the voice of cold religion,
such hideous hypocrisy!
I have heard the voice of suspicion that gave me a false identity.
I have heard the voice of a husband,
acceptance and promises of love,
then the voice of a baby boy, a gift from God above
I have heard the voice his “other woman”
and I knew we’d break up soon,
then the voice of a baby cry, murdered in my womb.
I have heard the voice of suicide,
welcoming me into hell,
I have heard the voice of institutions, “perhaps this will make me well”.
For years the voice of mental illness,
screaming through the halls.
I heard the voice of silent anger as my son put up his walls.
I have heard the voice of freedom ring,
breaking loose of basic needs,
betrayed again by demon’s voices, directing evil deeds.
So many voices had surrounded me, tearing
then I heard my voice cry out, from a broken heart.
At last I heard the Savior’s voice,
waiting all the while,
softly and firmly I heard Him speak “now you are my child”.
“You see I am the Good Shepherd, so there
is no more need to fear,
for at last my child, another’s voice, you don’t have to hear.