My Voice

Today, on the way home from an emotional journey, I read a poem. It melded with my thoughts about many different things; I loved it for what it was, and for what I could make it to be.  

MY VOICE

I come from a distant land

with a knapsack on my back

with a silent song on my lips

As I travelled down the river of my life

I saw my voice

(like Jonah)

swallowed by a whale

And my very life lived in my voice.

Kabul, Dec 1989.

My Voice: Partaw Naderi (b. 1953), translated by Sarah Maguire and Yama Yari.