From the unknown lands, a voice is heard:
a song, as from a mourning bird,
comes pure and blue across the lake
and hovers for a single, crystal moment –
For grief that goes far past the way
our syllables combine,
and how the broken start of day
is framed, and hung
in hallways we
ignore
I really like the first stanza and its counterpoint in the feeling of grief and a broken day. I rather hope you will revisit this one and see if there is a way to build on that image..
The second stanza drops me right up against the wall. Maybe that is what you intended?