In the hush of dawn’s first light, in the twilight’s gentle glow,
There are whispers of their presence, in the places we used to go.
In the dance of autumn leaves, in the lullaby of rain,
Their memory weaves around us, a symphony of joy and pain.
In the stories we retell, in the laughter we replay,
The whispers of their presence, gently guide us on our way.
In the dreams we dream at night, in the wishes made on stars,
The whispers grow louder, erasing the distance that mars.
Their presence lingers in the silence, echoes in the hall,
In the love they left behind, they answered life’s call.
In the lessons they’ve taught us, in the legacy they’ve sown,
The whispers of their presence, make us never feel alone.
So, when sorrow’s cloak drapes heavy, and the world feels strange and new,
Listen to the whispers, they’re messages from them to you.
In every memory, every tear, every smile, every day,
The whispers of their presence, are but a heartbeat away.
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