A Strangers Voice

If you listen to an unknown voice hard enough, it begins to sound familiar.

You hear the silent e's and sighs and whispers of each little word.

And, that voice again to you whispers,

It whispers of some life lost long ago,

And old paintings hanging near the window,

Of a cathedral, with old iron pipes for bones,

And bats within which they make their homes.

The darkness inside swirls between the pews,

Like fog swirls between trees in the cool, dewy, morning.

And that voice again calls to you, 

From farther away yet,

But still, it calls and stirs in you,

Recognition.

The remembrance of bells,

And your mothers calls.

Now, you see it for what it is,

A voice you once knew,

Long, long, ago.

A voice who, revived in those moments stirred the memory of your soul.

That voice,

That sound that you thought you knew,

Was not familiar after all.

Only like one of your family before the fall.