One voice begins.
It’s steady and deep.
Strong, but not over-powering.
Familiar, in a way different from the familiarity of my family’s voices.
Distant, yet connected deep inside me.
Always present but waiting quietly.
Next comes the quizzical voice.
Hesitant, but beautiful.
Soft, but prominent.
Slightly awry, but clear.
Always split between two notes, yet finding a common tone.
A bit chaotic, but a steady stream forward.
The voices stay soft but continue to speak.
Their steady presence captivating all those who listen.
Each person, everyone, taken by something different.
Some drawn in by the steady, deep voice
gently moving forward with each word put forth
pulling all the others into a moment of silence
only to continue the endless march forward.
Others are bewitched by the quizzical, clear voice
split in two
delicately looking around,
one gaze pulling the listeners with it until taken by another in a different direction.
Connected to the voices which lead them,
And through the curiosity that lies in their eyes
they are bewildered by every new sight.
The voices are in a constant dialogue of life,
as beautiful as four cellos playing side-by-side.