In the shadow of silence, a voice once strong
Echoes softly through the fields of past,
Words like whispers in the morning mist,
Carving paths where memories last.

Heaney’s pen, a gentle force of nature,
Dances on the edge of life and lore,
Capturing the soul of earth and time,
In verses that forever soar.

The soil remembers his tender touch,
Each word a seed in the fertile ground,
Growing stories that bloom in hearts,
Where his gentle spirit is found.

Though the world may dim in his absence,
His legacy, a light that never fades,
Guiding us through the darkest nights,
With the wisdom his poetry wades.