Sounds of continuity

They are voices of the dead living out
A future of their continued existence.
They are words come up from a night,
Very birds that briefly wake up to cry
And go back to sleep till proper dawn,

Chimes that sound out a wakefulness
In the stillness of an unslept midnight .
They are the sounds of our continuity,
Uninterrupted life flow through death.
They are the rain moths poised to die
On our lighted panes time and again.