Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me the dreams that hold your heart captive and your words ready to dance off your tongue with wild abandon.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me of how you fell and fell hard, time and time again, yet still pushed yourself back up onto wobbly knees.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me about the songs, the stories, the heartbreaks, the breakthroughs of your present and past years. Tell me how they molded you, turned you upside down and inside out, pointing you in a new direction. Tell me how despite it all, you still stood tall with a slight smile escaping your lips.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me the secrets of the stars and why you sit beneath the moon. Tell me of the times you ran on beaches caressed by moonlight and encouraged others to do the same. And tell me how when they stood their ground you still fled into the night, into your light, alone and carefree all the same.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me what makes your blood boil and your hands clench. Tell me the causes you champion, of the things you speak for that have no voice. Tell me how your passion, your vulnerability, your strength guides you to rise up and above – if not for you, for the others. Tell me.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me how you lose yourself in magic, in the wilderness, in the flowers, and in the trees. Tell me how you see the beauty of nature and lean in closer to hear its melodies. Tell me how your heart feels, your mind, your body, your soul. And tell me how altogether they paint the most divine picture that barely manages to encapsulate your power and place within this world.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me of when you last laughed so hard your stomach tightened and drops of joy fell from your eyes; of when you felt the most peace, the most love, the most complete. Tell me about the moments spent in silence, where everything just makes perfect sense and you can’t help but marvel at the ecstasy of it all.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me of watching her final breaths, of the saddest goodbyes and the happiest of hellos. Tell me of the cities you’ve seen and the airports you’ve lost yourself in, of the thoughts that run rampant and of the tears that fell without a witness.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me about the books that changed your world, drawing you in with their innate wisdom and sense of wonder. Tell me of the times you took risks, pushing past fear into the unknown and became a better person for it. Tell me about the memories that hold those you love the dearest, the brothers and sisters of soul, the long gone connections who played their part in the storyline of your life and the family who brought you here – sometimes battered, sometimes bruised, but with eyes that always found a way to sparkle.
Speak up, I can’t hear you. Tell me your darkest secrets and your deepest truths; the things you’ve put behind castle walls and the times of bravery when you’ve charged at them to tear them down. Tell me about the girl who stole your heart and the man who left it at your doorstep. Tell me how you loved and lost and fell and rose and messily, crazily yet lovingly, ventured on forwards in the hopes that you’d make sense of it somehow, some way, some day. Tell me about your thoughts and your regrets, of your pure contentment and wild yearnings, of the hands and hearts you’ve held and of the world you’ve lived in and shared.
Speak up, tell us who you are, where you’ve been and where you’re heading to next
– then let us meet you there.
We rise together.