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Each dusk has its music;
Summer has symphonies.
Bird calls settle, diminish. Sonata ends
as the song of crickets rises, sparking
the rise of fireflies,
seeking mates upon the flashing earth.
(A sideshow! Sweet ballet of lust and creation:
seeker and sought,
rose-scented pilgrimage,
light and sound and smell commingling…)
And then spring peepers, the third movement chorus—
a sound through the heart
to the deeper heart.
Wind whispers, caressing trees, gentling leaves:
hushed dream percussion.
Then all flow together: bird, cricket, peeper, breeze…
Light meets light and music recedes—
earth’s lullaby to her lonely
children, a nightly offering.
Take your seat; the show is free…
Add your song of
stillness and gratitude
(Crickets and Spring Peepers together: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWFjhEYXbbU&feature=related )
Beautiful verse, Catherine; sometimes the only way to get to the heart of something is through poetry rather than prose.
I like this poem very much
Beautiful play with words.