Your Voice

While I was away in Egypt, I wrote this poem because in a world where so many voices are silenced, dismissed, or drowned out by noise, remembering the power of our own voice is an act of courage. We are living in a time that calls for truth-telling, heart-speaking, and rising together in strength. Our voices are not just sounds—they are instruments of change, healing, and awakening. When we speak with clarity and authenticity, we give others permission to do the same. That is how movements are born, healing begins, and hope is sustained.

Your voice is a gift, a golden thread,

woven through lifetimes, softly said.

It is the wind that stirs the flame,

a whisper that remembers your name.

Born with this power, you did not earn,

it’s your inheritance, waiting to return.

A river flowing from soul to sound,

where truth and courage can be found.

When you speak, the world shifts shape,

walls dissolve, old wounds escape.

Each word a spark, a breath, a light,

guiding you home through the night

.

Your voice is not small, it was never meant to hide—

it was carved from stars, fierce and wide.

It awakens your strength, it opens the door,

to a life where you rise and silence no more.

Speak, beloved, with fire and grace,

let your truth fill every space.

For when your voice takes its rightful place,

you become empowered, alive, awake.

Your voice matters.

It always has.

It always will.

Cynthia James

Author and Speaker