Summits

 Summits

I was always described as a shy child at school,

Never look you in the eye 

Cry at the mere hint of conflict,

Or praise.

I grew up 'deficient'; misinterpreted, wronged.

I felt a fire in me,

Gathering fuel from the incidents

That shaped me,

Lighting a beacon for my self-esteem

To warm my walked-over feet on dark nights.

So, I set myself a goal

To be able to talk, 

Particularly in difficult situations; 

To be heard 

Without breaking down.

I climbed that mountain,

Up the path called assertiveness,

Around the summit of self-expectation

And do you know what I found?

There's an echo.

Because in finding my voice

I cupped my hands and shouted to the world

"This is me now!"

But all that came back to me from others

Was the echo of my former self.

So I tried again

To make my Self heard,

Directing rather than shouting my voice 

Down the valley of self confidence.

And now I grow in the forest of self-reassurance.

Oxygen-clear in tone,

Whole-hearted in approach;

Feeling reinvigorated in the rain of knowledge 

That I can speak my truth

And you can hear me, from the depths of your soul.

A Wensley

26.08.2024