I Need Nothing More Than Her Voice. Poem by Raouf Reda

I know she is busy but what can I do?
I can’t stop calling!
To hear her, regardless of what is being said is to be touched,
Addressed, spoken to at a level beyond and deeper than the conscious.
Deep calls unto deep.
The unspeakable is heard and felt even when she simply answers the phone, “hello.”
When souls resonate intimacy occurs.
Our voice carries the message.
Words don’t always matter.
Tone of voice always matters.
With the voice we attend to what we love, who we love.
The sound of her voice.
Other voices I hear.
Her voice I resonate to.
Other voices communicate words of greeting, direction, and information.
They stand for and bridge for friendship.
Her voice strikes fire in my soul.
The unnoticed sky suddenly becomes a polished blue.
Trees sing.
My soul sings.
I laugh, weep, hum a forgotten tune, whistle or chatter endlessly.
She speaks. Energy flows. She speaks.
I gladly take on the world.
The sound of her voice makes me glad I am alive.
The sound of her voice makes me glad I am a man.
The sound of her voice makes me glad.
The bridge between seeing and holding is a conversation.
The subject doesn’t matter.
The sound of her voice does.
What miracle, what magic, what alchemy of soul carries itself in the soft warm sound of her voice?
With her voice she banishes fear, soothes and caresses challenges and delights.
The fascination that is her, the mystery that is her, I find and know in the sound of her voice.
I wish one day she’ll know how much I love her.