Whispers of Heavenly Death
Walt Whitman
1819 to 1892
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Whispers of heavenly death murmur’d I hear,
Labial gossip night, sibilant chorals,
Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted and low,
Ripples of unseen rivers, tides of a flowing, forever flowing,
(Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?)
I see, see skyward, great cloud-masses,
Mournfully slowly they roll, silently and mixing,
With at times a half-dimm’d sadden’d far-off star,
Appearing and disappearing.
(Some parturition rather, some solemn immortal birth;
On the frontiers to eyes impenetrable,
Some soul is over.)