Crickets

This late summer's night
when my mind is troubled
by a million tribulations,
I open the windows
to the sound
of crickets.

Am I hearing one final hurrah
before they seek refuge
in the nooks and crannies
of my home?
Or are these simple,
gentle creatures
playing their wings for me
in some ancient
and metaphysical way?

I don't know,
some mysteries are
better left unexplained.
And for me that's
just crickets.



September 2009