Listen to their song

· by · in dVerse, glosa, poetry. ·

Before the sodden churchyard has been kissed
by daylight skipping in between headstones,
I hear them through the chilling autumn mist,
the muffled footsteps of returning souls.
From All Souls by Kim Russel 2025

We came through mud, through trenches dug
with muscles aching, we came with friends
for foes, through reek of sweat, on gangrene
feet, we marched before we came to rest
inside these walls, we came to sing our hymns
reminding humans all that have been missed:
our unborn children, our families erased;
yet on a dawn like this, you should recall
that soon the wind and sun will meet in tryst
before the sodden churchyard has been kissed

by jackdaws dancing with last of leaves; we leave
cause somewhere underneath the fattened bulbs
of tulips wait to burst in praise of life still had;
while boughs will bow and grass will grow to green
our home will serve to recall of beauty here,
remaining in the poppies sprung from our bones
and we will watch and walk with you a while
to serve and save, reminding you: preserve
what’s left and why we died in pain and groans.
By daylight skipping in between headstones,

you may hear our rattled breath in branches
moving with November winds, telling stories
of unrest, you may hear the calls for actions
you may hear the bells of war, and shadows
telling tales too true to comprehend
In your guts you sense revenge you must resist
our corpses has to serve the cause we set
when dying, we must remember lives denied
we urge you, please remember, we insist.
I hear them through the chilling autumn mist,

through fields and gardens on a restless wind
they’re burdened by the dread of words unread
by forgotten wisdoms, by my ignorance
to reckon what I failed to solve, my hate
my urge for retribution and attack.
while below in the darkness of their holes
they cannot rest, tonight to rise again
and sing for me, for us and even them.
can you hear it, how on threadbare soles
the muffled footsteps of returning souls?

By https://unsplash.com/photos/oLhTLD-RBsc Image at the Wayback MachineGallery at the Wayback Machine, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62141131 – painting by Otto Dix

Today it is Open Link night at dVerse with the opporunity to participate in a live session on Saturday at 10 AM New York Time.

Last Open Link Live I shared a glosa I wrote a few years back, but today I am sharing a fresh written glosa written with a cabeza picked from Kim wher she specifically says that the poem was written in remembrance of all the soldiers who perished in the two world wars.

November 20, 2025

43 responses to “Listen to their song”

  2. This is incredibly poignant, Bjorn. Especially resonate with; “I hear them through the chilling autumn mist, through fields and gardens on a restless wind.”

  3. Thank you, Björn, for taking lines from my poem to produce this amazing glosa.  I really like the title, the way you turned the muffled footsteps of retuning souls into tangible soldiers who dug trenches and sang hymns, and the echo of my lines through yours. And you have jackdaws and poppies sprung from bones!

  8. Wow! So pround, so heartfelt

    “remaining in the poppies sprung from our bones”

    This line is unforgetable

    much♡love

  9. I can’t find words adequate to describe my reaction to your amazing poem. Powerful feels inadequate, but powerful it is indeed! Unforgettable.

  10. Bjorn,

    It is vital to remember and honor those who died in wars, to acknowledge and release. Your poem is one way we can grieve the loss and remember the sacrifice. It is so difficult to address this sorrowful topic. You did a beautiful job.

    I especially appreciate these lines,

    “through fields and gardens on a restless wind
    they’re burdened by the dread of words unread
    by forgotten wisdoms, by my ignorance
    to reckon what I failed to solve, my hate
    my urge for retribution and attack.”

    And, you also introduced me to a new form.

    Thank you.

  17. This was a very moving poem. I remember a famous Urdu/Hindi poet’s words about sleepless nights. I am writing it down in English but his words, they are beautiful.
    “The night is passing and I have spent a hundred nights with tearful eyes,
    I wish someone would light up the blown out candles again,
    I wish someone would say out loud the names that have been forgotten with time,
    The days pass but the precious memories don’t fade with them”

  21. Such a powerful and haunting tribute. Your words beautifully honor those who gave everything, and the imagery of their voices carried on the wind is deeply moving. Thank you for keeping their memory alive through your poetry.

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