Soul’s Echo
by Siros
There is a place the body cannot follow—
a hush between heartbeats
where memory lingers after the voice is gone.
That is where you live now.
Not in the photos I can barely touch.
Not in the places we once stood,
but in the silence that knows your shape.
I called your name once,
long after the world said I should stop.
It didn’t answer back—
not with sound.
But the trees leaned in,
and the wind moved like you did
when you entered a room without trying.
Sorrow doesn’t scream.
It whispers.
And in that whisper, I heard
your laugh,
your sigh,
the moment you forgave me without saying so.
Grief made me echo,
but love gave the echo a rhythm.
Now, when I fall quiet,
it’s not to forget,
but to feel the trace
of who you were
still alive in the spaceleft behind.
A soul does not vanish.
It reverberates.
And I listen
Jun 27, 2025
Jun 27, 2025 at 9:33 AM UTC
Soul’s Echo
by Siros
There is a place the body cannot follow—
a hush between heartbeats
where memory lingers after the voice is gone.
That is where you live now.
Not in the photos I can barely touch.
Not in the places we once stood,
but in the silence that knows your shape.
I called your name once,
long after the world said I should stop.
It didn’t answer back—
not with sound.
But the trees leaned in,
and the wind moved like you did
when you entered a room without trying.
Sorrow doesn’t scream.
It whispers.
And in that whisper, I heard
your laugh,
your sigh,
the moment you forgave me without saying so.
Grief made me echo,
but love gave the echo a rhythm.
Now, when I fall quiet,
it’s not to forget,
but to feel the trace
of who you were
still alive in the spaceleft behind.
A soul does not vanish.
It reverberates.
And I listen