NaPoMo - April 1 -- She Sings, She Speaks

Happy am I for a song to sing
A small song
Caught upon the wings of the air
Alighting
To be heard by anyone,
Everyone, or no one but myself.
A soul.
A song
That I thrust into the open air-
Let the air take it and make of it what it will.
       A bit of laughter,
       A streak of tears,
       A dark smudge of fear,
       A weight of regret;
Knotted notes
Set free.
Redeemed.
So it's my song. It is me. It is my past, my hopes of what may be.
A passing ditty perhaps:
         pulsing frail, screaming hilarity,
         the soft repose of purging fullness
         that otherwise had it not been released
         possessed the strength to strangle the insides that gave it birth.
Sing!
Sing! Little bird-
The Wind whispered in my ear
Becoming stormclouds beneath my wings
Shuddering, gathering up
Giving flight
and the expanse of blue to call Home.

** A little poem for NaPoMo. Make of it what you will, but do this one thing for me in exchange for looking at scraps of my soul: sing. Sing and find the free joy He has for you.

Sing your song, little sparrow. Wind carries music where it will-- your song is necessary.

Ann Voskamp and SheSpeaks conference are offering a scholarship,
A Holy Experience, an opportunity to learn the tune to the songs we have to sing.