finding your voice
once
i thought my quiet
meant nothing
truth is—
the world was just too loud
for what i carried
so i waited
i listened
i learned the edges of silence
the taste of words
i wasn’t ready to say
then one day
the stillness moved
and i moved with it
my voice came back
not as thunder
but as light
spilling slowly into a dark room
no shouting
just becoming
a tone
a field
a steady flame
it was never lost
only forming
and now
i hand it to you—
a compass.
a gift.
a way through.
ARTIST NOTE:
There is a quiet power in claiming space — not to fill it, but to harmonise with it.
'Finding your voice' is both a confession and a compass.
It began in stillness — the kind that holds both waiting and becoming.
Each line is a breath, each pause a choice: to listen first, to rise second.
This work speaks in the language of light and patience.
It is for those learning that their softness was never weakness,
and that truth, when ready, does not need to shout.
May it be a reminder:
your voice has weight,
you're becoming has rhythm,
and your presence is enough to shift the air.