I hear many voices, loud and silent. They seem to come from the sky like voices of angels. Some voices crawl on the fisherman’s line to the fish that swims on my dreams.
Others are grievances that knock on the doors. They are like porches- cluttered, unwanted.
Voices can be fragrances or harmonious luxury of colors that greet me in my walk in the neighborhood. They dance with the breeze and known to hypnotize those who look too long.
Voices fill my mind. They come like invited guests and keep me company. Sometimes they enter surreptitiously and disturb my concentration.
I’m not a child, restless, with activities. I’m a child, content, who gets lost in a play.