The Quiet Call

He heard the world, every whisper, every sound, But missed the softest voice that called him home. Golden rooms and echoing halls, Meetings louder than the rain’s small fall, A child’s laugh fades down the hall, And silence answers his own call. He swore he’d listen, to every plea, But life tuned out his family’s key, Chasing notes from every land, While missing the song in his own hand. The Quiet Call, it breaks the loudest man, A tender voice he never planned, Lost in noise, he built his wall, And never heard The Quiet Call. Little shoes, still by the door, Drawings pinned but ignored before, Years went by, the laughter dimmed, He found their echoes haunting him. Time replayed what he’d erased, Small moments he never faced, In the hush, he heard it all The love beneath The Quiet Call. The Quiet Call, it breaks the proudest tone, It sings of hearts he left alone, Now every silence feels so tall, And echoes still The Quiet Call. He’d give the world for one “Dad, stay,” To hear the voice he turned away, No symphony could heal it all Just one lost note in The Quiet Call. The Quiet Call, it hums through time, A truth too soft, yet so divine, The loudest heart can still fall When it can’t hear The Quiet Call.