Voice

In the hush of dawn, a voice awakes,
Soft as mist that drifts across the lake,
It hums through reeds, a gentle sigh,
A lullaby that paints the sky.

It carries words both sharp and sweet,
From laughter’s bright, unguarded beat
To whispers low, like secrets shared,
In every tone, a soul laid bare.

Sometimes it rises, bold and clear,
A trumpet call that draws us near,
Other times it fades, a distant sigh,
Like wind through leaves of amber‑brown sky.

In crowded rooms or lonely lanes,
The voice persists, it sings, it strains,
A thread of sound that weaves us tight,
Turning silence into light.

So cherish this, our gift, our own—
The echo of the heart’s true tone,
For in each voice, both strong and meek,
Lies the world’s song, unique and deep.