Crickets sing, a symphony of vivacity
Brightening the night to the count of 1,2,3.
Rapid, but never rushed,
Their joy caused my cheeks to flush.
Alive! They sang,
I am alive,
And oh, how glorious the night!
They needed not validation, nor hearing, nor sight.
Their songs rocked me to sleep
On my bed – the place for my consciousness to keep.
Night after night, they sing their ploy
And night after night, I partake in their joy.
And so I cannot call it sadness
When their music begins to slow.
The nights are cold,
Their internal metronome abates as cool wind blows.
Tonight, still, they will rock me to sleep
But I know in my heart they shall forever keep.