I was asking you to go
to that still point
where there was no argument,
where the raging anguish
that roared at the surface
was unheard,
where the tumbling waves above
could only relay
a small tremor,
just at your heel

I felt like instead
I was just shouting
against the din,
so I considered:
my tiny voice
will never be
the still small one
that moves the mountains
but you have a voice within
and it is speaking.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 5, 2017