Behind My Voice
Behind my voice
—listen, listen—
another voice sings.
It comes from behind, from far.
It comes from the buried
mouths and it sings.
They say they are not dead
—listen to them, listen to them—
while the voice rises
remembers them and sings.
Listen, listen:
another voice sings.
They say they live now
in your eyes,
sustain them with your eyes,
with your words.
So that they are not lost.
So that they do not fall.
They are not only memory,
they are open to life
open wide.
Listen, listen:
another voice sings.