The Voice

There are times in our lives where another speaks, actually talks to us and leaves us stunned at the message just heard, the idea, the attitude, or ability to perplex. However, there are few times or things that can compare to the "librarian voice," or the comforting feeling that the right tonal chord can do to us.  

There are some human beings that have the unique ability to pacify the mind and spirit, whose voice can allow for the monkey brain syndrome to be paused upon hearing these wondrous humans open their mouth.  To be in their presence means happiness at that moment, and strange as it might sound, the topic is of little importance. They could be talking to you about almost anything; a credit card offer, whom to vote for, will you be paying with check or cash. Simply put these people are all around us in our daily operations. They play the role of the teacher, the student, the friend, and foe, but only one in a million have a voice like the one I am describing.

I love the moment when it happens, the surprising realization that you have just found one of these voices, a piece of the bigger connectivity. Is this "voice" attraction something from the core of humanity, does this strange feeling attained by listening to the tonal perfection draw us into a trap, or is it even something more sinister?  Is this a funny game meant to throw us all off, a way for God (if there is one) to test our abilities to dare try not listen?  Not listening though, that would be like not taking a bite from the apple, not giving into the serpent.  The ability to back away from the speaker, the cognitive siren at hand, is a possibility without reality. 

But aside from this being some test, the beauty of the moment is pure and sensual to the ears, to the mind and body, to the senses. If there is one perfect thing in this world, it just might be the unusual existence of this gifted frequency of speech that these vocal unicorns possess. Reality goes away when you hear this person speak, fuzzy-warm tingles shimmer along the crest of the neck, down the spine, into the core of the body, riding back up the front and around into the eyes. The eyes tell it all, calmly they begin to dilate due to the smooth softness. Breathing slows, heart beat and rhythm come into one with the pulsating needs of man and woman alike. Herein, the hypnotic trance begins to take root, take hold, build, and then deliver the listener to a state of pure euphoria. 

The voice brings me pleasure. The voice is like water when I thirst. The voice is everywhere that I want to be. Mysterious is the voice that can do this, and curious is the person. Do they know that they can captivate just by speaking?  Are they aware of their power, their ability to stimulate?  From where do they come? Is this the voice of a Darwinian genetic variety, or is it in the cosmic swirl that it accidentally has arisen?  

Eventually, it has to end though. The moment, the sad state of the loss of the voice, the time to say goodbye, the time to let go comes forth, and the end is brutal.  Back to the harsh tones of the world.  Was it ever even real you wonder?  Did I talk to the person with the voice, or was it all in my imagination?  How lucky a time spent is the one listening to the voice, hearing the sweet-butter-nectar-honey. Until we meet again.