the voice IS still

today the voice is still
today the voice is no more
whispers none, sings none,
thunders not, inspires not,
for when a road ends,
when the gates close,
upon a life, then we see
all we have,
all we know,
rests in a life lived.

in the distance north,
in the distance south,
in the distance east,
in the distance west,
from every side,

from every corner,
whatever stands,
will still stand,
whatever breathes,
will still breathe.

the voice today is still,

to be heard no more.
the voice that was the face
and the presence
the voice that loved,
that tried to love,
the voice that in solitude
feared, trembled, struggled,
fought, argued, pained,
yet amongst others
stayed not to waver.
 

in our solemn grief

for who, whom, why, what,
ask not,
the voice is still,

do one need, we ask,
yes. no. yes. no.

one voice.

hundreds and thousands and millions.

one voice.

here, there, everywhere, anywhere.

no more.

smiles, waves, bows, nods, shakes,

see none will we now.
 

we say, we still do see

there is a whisper.

in the wind.

there is a silence.

in the trees.

there is a story.

in the waves.

a whisper that belongs.

a silence that respects.

a story that will and shall say goodbye.

grief there will be

tears there will be

for the regret

for the pain

for the sorrows

that shield not

the farewells from

voices not silent.