Christella Speaks
in my mind
the sound of your voice
is
warmed honey
low and husky
slow and easy
sweet
to my ears
my soul
lazily
dripping
down
coats the raw
weary
hoarseness
in my throat...
my sometimes wounded cries
soothed by whispers
I cannot hear
but recognize
oh...
at the sound
I feel such certainty
abiding care
comfort
embracing
you are there
a stately elm
regal, bending,
limbs stretched out
casting long deep shadows
no fear or doubt
cooling fevered nightmares
safe haven
from the raging torrent
within these stormy seas
that sometimes seem
too great to sail alone
too wild to calm or to appease
the timbre of your voice
which I have never heard
caresses
holds me
every word
precious
when you speak
to me
precious
as the face
I cannot see
~ by Erica 4/15/2002