The Voice is trying to speak,
Listen closely, do you hear?
Too much noise inside your ear,
Yet the message is very near.

It cries, melancholy is her song,
Who can see her tears.
The cost of her pain is dear,
It has been suppressed many a year.

It whispers in the wind,
I listen in my mind.
It’s a voice that none can bind;
That only the blind see.

It talks in the rain,
But no being is taking it in.
The calm words raindrops carry,
Get buried deep in natures green.

It shouts, it thunders, it storms!
the few understand, the many misunderestimate.
‘Care for me and keep me from harm!’
Is the first cause to which man is bound!

Copyright © 2001 Clint Arthur Ouma