the voices of morning
the call of the birds
the hum of fragile wings
and even the winds sigh
for they could not hear your voice
and thus they could not sing
and the sun would weep if not for her fires
would rather be blind
for her eyes could not find you
to give you your shadow
that once walked alongside mine

silence could not find its voice
for it has lost its rhythm, its home
between each syllable of your every word
and even the night feels the cold
that is dark and empty without
you in the distance, awake,
your heart beating and your eyes
set off to some distant land,
or to the sky where soars
your dreams and hopes.

and i
and i my love
and i my love stand alone
even my shadow dissipates
my voice fade as my eyes
dives into nothingness
with only a faint hope
that when morning comes
light and sound, sight and hearing
reveals your face and your smile
that rival those of the stars.