I was hanging in my weakness,
the waves of fruitless thought.
I took the steps I had so carefully crafted,
smashing them with shame that only I could perceive.
I saw fantastic strangers who wanted everything I wanted.
They were clinging to rafts of their creativity.
I saw them as mentors, and they saw me as theirs.
Like me, they fought for dreams, moving one thread at a time.
I do not understand how I have blocked out the sound of reassurance.
I have walked the shore of self-doubt for no reason.
I saw them flying kites in the breeze, and I was astonished at their skill
They complimented my craft, and my past slapped me for listening.
When the sun lit the water then slowly touched the sky
I heard a noise that it was making, and it was fine.
I held my thoughts of self-depreciation at bay so that the work of my hands
could prevail with the sound the sunrise makes.
I am listening now, my inner voice subdued and held down, and I am never allowed to speak.
I have heard enough of that and will now listen to your words.
The sun is rising and it is time to acknowledge that.
