I Want to Sing

‘Isn’t all grief a prayer?’

you asked.

I rolled my eyes.

The animal of my grief

is feral and hurt,

and I hide him

under a heavy blanket.

There is no poem.

All the words

I want to say

rise from my heart

and crumble apart

when I open my mouth--

fragments of silence.

I want a voice

as sharp and clear

as the cardinal perched

in the side yard.

I don’t know whether

his song is celebration

or sorrow, but I want

to learn how to

sing those things

with my whole body.

I want to be

the red thing

against a blue sky

breathing in all

of the pain

and filling the silence

with song, whether

grief or love—

singing so loud

I can be heard

above the hammers

fixing the roof

next door.

I want to be the red thing

among green leaves

steady and strong,

though the wind

tosses the branches

back and forth.

I want to sing

a melody so pure

I pierce your heart—

your burden lightened,

suddenly,

by my song.

*A shout out to Cohort 30 of the Teleos Coach Development Program who, this week, each found their clear voice and inspired others, including me, to do the same.