''The Promptings Come in Whispers''

it's often faint and gets drowned out
Like a guide who tells me where to go
but chooses not to shout
It sends me signals from another plane
and shows me things I might not see
Who to avoid and who to embrace
it clears my path and sets me free
At times I might feign deafness
and vainly choose another course
But usually look back in regret
when the road I take gets worse
So now I practice getting silent
to hear the falling of a pin
Yes, I'm learning how to listen well
to the still small voice within
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