Voices

What’s the reason to die, the wise know In a thousand voices they confide to me Their valued opinions, but I’m too slow To capture the truth they can clearly see One dies, two are born, and it doesn't matter Who will they become, one may do The same thing, another may do something better Until the third comes to change the whole view But these abstractions seem too grand for me A new meaning cannot replace the old I belong to my own, smaller reality Where her paradise garden my love has grown There I stay, listening closely to you To the voice that I know so innately close Realizing that death isn’t eternal, it too Comes and goes, in the mess of its time resource But aren’t we doing the same again? Reiterating ourselves, we’re expelled After the rest we are back somewhen Hearing the voices we know so well.