My Voice



My voice is emerging, 
writhing in pain under the boot of the new order, 
struggling to find its way to strength.

My voice is the endless wind 
felt on my children’s cheeks, 
their ears ringing with love and support. 
Constant, beating, ever-present, like an ocean breeze.

My voice is a rainbow that brightens the sky after a storm.
A candle that illuminates a dark room. 
A bright star shining light in a dark night.

My voice is a whisper telling where I am. 
A question asking where I should be. 
A shout demanding, 
I am here!

I've been told "you don't say much, 
but when you do, 
what you say really matters." 
I don't want to talk loudly.
I want to speak 

My voice is a poem folded into an origami crane.
Written on little pieces of paper, 
scraps of thought hidden in the folds.

My voice is in the service of those 
whose voices are ignored or unheard—
young girls of color who hold promise and inspiration 
for a world that welcomes their magic.

My voice is a thunderclap 
that breaks the silence of the void,
illuminating the thoughts 
that are lost in darkness

My voice is not afraid
to take the lead talking about 
racism, power, privilege.

Stand up, speak out.

Together, our voices are immense.
Forming a network at the crossroads,
an oath of solidarity.
Grappling, questioning,
breaking from the usual.
Inspiring philanthropy 
to make a difference.