it can be hours of silence
I strain to hear above it
adjusting the headphones
the small voices that hide between the wind
and the settling of the house
the leaves jostling about
brushing the roof
I push myself to continue
whispered footsteps from upstairs
birds greeting the yet unlit morning
this house is alive
with the dead who remain
and when I am about to succumb
to the blur of exhaustion
the child comes through...
'Mommy!'
not once, but multiple cries
the sadness and fear in her voice
is palpable
and I am helpless to help her
how many hundreds of years has this child
repeated her cries
in this house
in this room
refusing to leave
still searching for her mother
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 12:05 AM UTC
it can be hours of silence
I strain to hear above it
adjusting the headphones
the small voices that hide between the wind
and the settling of the house
the leaves jostling about
brushing the roof
I push myself to continue
whispered footsteps from upstairs
birds greeting the yet unlit morning
this house is alive
with the dead who remain
and when I am about to succumb
to the blur of exhaustion
the child comes through...
'Mommy!'
not once, but multiple cries
the sadness and fear in her voice
is palpable
and I am helpless to help her
how many hundreds of years has this child
repeated her cries
in this house
in this room
refusing to leave
still searching for her mother
I recorded the voice of a child in an old brick house built in the 1700's. I have numerous evp's from this property that has several buildings, but this was the most profound and indeed has had a lasting effect. Anyone interested in hearing the evp can message me and I will send a link. You will need headphones to hear it....but once you do, you won't forget it.
