A poem by an NoSW listener, Archie from Tacoma, Washington.
The Narrowcaster
A Man Speaks Softly Into The Microphone,
His Voice Low, Steady,
Carrying Stories Like Wind Carries Whispers.
No Pen, No Page—
Just Sound Weaving Itself
Into Something Timeless.
He Doesn’t Just Tell Stories,
He Spins Them,
Each Word Wrapped In Meaning,
Floating Through The Air,
Finding You Wherever You Are.
You Listen,
Drawn In,
As If His Voice Could Pull You From Your World
And Drop You Into Another.
But It's Not Fantasy He Offers—
It's Life,
Seen Through A Different Lens,
Stretched Into Tales
That Leave A Mark.
A Lesson In Every Twist,
Truth In Every Pause.
His Words Settle Like Quiet Rain,
Soaking Into The Soil Of Your Thoughts,
Rooting Deeper Than You Expect.
He Is The Storyteller
Who Doesn’t Just Want You To Listen—
He Wants You To Learn,
To Feel,
To Walk Away Changed,
Carrying A Piece Of His Magic.
Into Your Own World.
