My Voice

 

The wind blows a breeze.

The chimes begin to ring, slowly and lightly.

Though the sound seems faint, it still rings.

 

The wind blows a stronger wind.

The chimes ring faster and louder.

The jangle of the chimes creates unapologetic ripples.

 

The chimes are not afraid.

She is not who she used to be.

Her voice resonates the room, the home, and the world.

Her jangle is not noise but a voice.

 

Jangle

Blissfully,

Bianca