...The Voice Within...

NaiTiwa

Listen — the stream flows without end

It comforts a broken heart in the forest hills

I hear all the sounds drawing near

Until the voice within can no longer be heard

I hear only the water flowing in the forest

A soft, lonely sound that never fades

The sound of solitude, quiet and familiar

Blending with the stream that wears through stone

Ripe figs fall and scatter everywhere

Leaving traces that speak of home

The tall fig tree reaches upward to bloom

To drop its fruit — the story of the forest's life

Butterflies, small and large, dance

Wings moving with the song of the stream

Creatures play, cautious and alert

Near and far, for just a moment

The sound of forest, of trees, of flowing water

A quiet song that echoes through dreams

The voice of truth stays silent

But wild sounds offer gentle relief

Listen — the stream flows without end

It comforts a broken heart in the forest hills

I hear all the sounds drawing near

Until the voice within can no longer be heard

All the sounds come close and rest beside me.

Still, I wait — to hear the voice within that remains unheard.

.........................................................

Nai Tiwa

July 2025

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