Through a cacophony of sound
One voice is soft upon my ears.
An unused but remembered mother-tongue
Pronounced with warm inflections
Bids me welcome.
The language of my heart much faster-paced
And, stimulating in sharp repartee,
Challenges my soul to catch up
With my mind, call your quizzical brow
Friend among a crowd of strangers.
A face to tell a tale of merry meet and laughter,
Of life taken in stride, and dreams
Unspent to live the every-day.
A perfectly familiar stranger and yet
Somehow I know I’ll hear from you again.
To “the Swedish cousin” © jsmorgane (Sept 2010)