I had a voice before I ever knew
Its sound surrounded by the safe and warm
Home I’ve now lived in long in gratitude
For time and space to give that voice a form.
It was your hand that labored to create
The time for teaching me the silent song
I had been singing all those years–so late
To learning my own joy after so long.
First unearthed music slowly came to life,
An instrument for singing all our joys
That later found in music’s afterlife
The words to fit what poetry employs.
No matter whether sung or simply said,
It’s you who raised my voice up from the dead.

About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in joy, Poetry, Songs, Sonnet. Bookmark the permalink.

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