Voices (April 2016)

I have heard the voices of angels. Voices delivering words that drip like honey, sweet and lingering and pure as they kiss my ears with the gentleness of morning dew. Voices the color of amethyst speckled with gold, sun-touched warmth wrapping around me like a blanket and squeezing, holding me hostage and relieving the burning behind my tired eyes. Voices that taste like nostalgia, safe and familiar, like a mother's voice to a newborn's ears. Voices that sound otherworldly. Voices that can only be described using the other senses, because when the lucid is obscured and the coherent loses meaning, there is nothing to do but state claims which cannot be stated, and make comparisons which one ought not make. The Book of Revelation is full of them, and a revelation has certainly been revealed to me. The voices are calling me now. I will answer, pulling myself up on unsteady legs and stumbling to my window, straining to get a better view of the trees that sway just a little bit differently, just a little bit lazier. The voices will dance between those fresh leaves, beckoning me to join as they waltz into the sky, enticing the cotton clouds and returning to the welcoming baby blues of the heavens above.

-D.

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