Svelte, smooth as silk, running
Rustling, sultry as the hot savannah
Afternoon, whispering and cooing
Like a lovelorn dove, perched
On a loft, lofty and carefree,
Is the sound of the voice

In all directions at once, nimbly
Permeating the inner reaches of
Consciousness, both awake and not
Enveloping the silence within
Is the sound of the voice

An inner cry, like the halidon
Seeps through the recesses, and
Cracks, filling every inch with
Syrupy smoothness, like honey
Dripping from a golden honeycomb,
A vast honey filled catacomb

Across the plains it wafts
Wisps of hot air, breathed
Into the channels and lifted
Out to the inner reaches, to get
Away and reach out across, to
Touch in a way never before

Reaching a cresecendo, the voice
Crashes into the piqued eardrums
Cavorting and caressing the inner
Ear, mingling with other sounds
Creating a soothing, sorrounding
Feeling, never before experienced

And it goes on to bring new, exciting
Dimensions right across the yawning
Vast plains, dry, hot, and unrelenting
But the divide not any more vast as
The gap is closed, slowly and truly
The void is closed, finally, finally
Reaching the desired end, bliss!

© mwenda riungu