Literature
The Voice in Me
Lonely and alone, I walk over hill and dale in the moonlight.
In my hand I hold a diffident light.
Its glow is only very sparse.
A voice I hear, so near and yet so distant.
Words clear and distinct … but who speaks, whom I cannot see?
Neither man nor woman, my heart must it be, the words of love:
"I am always with you, trust me.
And I am gone, just because you are not there.
My voice is at home, in the midst of your heart, in the safest place.
I am the moon, I am the stick and the stone, the hill and the dale,
Even the diffident light that you hold in your hand.
And the glow, at first only very sparse, is getting brighter, for it is