'Tis but one voice I long to hear, and it alone can speak
Of hospitals and ice chips, or home, a cup of tea;
Tingle touches, sleepless nights, chapstick and the beach,
Looney Tunes and Tortoise Shell, my hands upon her feet:
Were you not told? Go home. It's over, All has died.
God's tomb we cannot find, for out of reach of mortal man,
Beyond earth, sky and sea it lies.
Oh foolish earth! Why do you turn? Did you not hear?
Do you think it matters now, the moonlight and the green?
Her eyes are shut, the moss and clay eclipsed forever be;
Why do you turn?
Accursed sun! I saw you die; are you blind that you don't see?
I held her hand at world's end,
So stop! It's done, complete.
No more her flaming hair to light; why shine you still?
Her eyes you will not find, her smile you cannot see.
Her cat-scarred hands and dappled face we buried on a hill,
Bared feet facing you each morn, midst rivers, sky and sea.
Did you not hear?
Yet, should you hear, should you go black, yet still you would not see;
For God has died, but is not dead: so Holly too shall be.
Have you not heard?
Two voices still I long to hear, that soon, to me, shall speak.