The Wind of the Voice
Jewel in the crowning glory
of the masterpiece that is
creation, yet the story
this woman knows is twisted,
kinked like the serpent’s body.
So, the Speaker of Life breaths
through the baron wadi
of her soul. Her true name comes:
now in a whisper, and now
as a roar, sweeping away
insignificance to allow
the great flourishing of Life.
Gold and silver sprout, all new
and green, and her laughter sings
on the wind. Her untold value
bears fruit of endless supply.
Yet, no ink of pride is seen
in her, for pride is born of
self-sufficiency. She leans
with the wind of the voice; a
sparrow who has learned to soar.
by Megan Little
Sculpture created with wire, maps, handmade paper, and other mixed meda.
Jewel in the crowning glory
of the masterpiece that is
creation, yet the story
this woman knows is twisted,
kinked like the serpent’s body.
So, the Speaker of Life breaths
through the baron wadi
of her soul. Her true name comes:
now in a whisper, and now
as a roar, sweeping away
insignificance to allow
the great flourishing of Life.
Gold and silver sprout, all new
and green, and her laughter sings
on the wind. Her untold value
bears fruit of endless supply.
Yet, no ink of pride is seen
in her, for pride is born of
self-sufficiency. She leans
with the wind of the voice; a
sparrow who has learned to soar.
by Megan Little
Sculpture created with wire, maps, handmade paper, and other mixed meda.