The difficulty of looking inside
Yet necessary and necessary of training.
My inner voice head to shout
For me to listen
And no volume switch is in sight.
My ear is gentle and too respectful
Of those voices outside
That talk loud over that whisper.
What holds me back
Has no hands and no reason.
In my belly a fear and a spasm.
From true dedication,
there came disappointment
Dressed in targets and evaluations.
No belly tells lies.
I have heard it ten times
Yet it has not changed my life.
That encouraging sentence,
full of wisdom and experience
Cannot effectively transfer its content
I will hear it another million times
And it week one day
Enrich my life.
Thanks for the advices
But words can have limits.
Tell me a story
That was never written
that has a cowboy traveling alone
And a horse who missed her friends.
A story with a farm and a dog
Smelling like peach flowers
And cut grass
Is my favourite.
Tel me a story you lived
And that I will tell my children
But will never write.
The train with its jumps,
The radio with its melodies,
The dripping of the rain
Are all rhythms competing with my heart.
I want to follow you
But you are too quiet
And your hiding in the noises leads me nowhere.
To pace my life.
The talent of listening
Can be trained and domesticated
Giving us the possibility of enjoying
The efforts of others.
Listen to their stories
Or think about yourself and your daily struggle
Until you find yourself daydreaming
And time has passed.