cicada song
It's warm and balmy in sub-tropical Louisiana. There is a thumbnail moon rising in the mid-evening sky.
I heard a cicada yesterday at moonrise and I know there will be more singing tonight.
It's such a short life, the one they lead. I pity them, but I also enjoy their song.
During the three summers I spent on the island, the Japanese taught me their natural affinity for
the fleeting. I now share that love for the evanescent. These feelings that they�ve given me rush up to me now. This is why I love "tsuri" (cicada) music this time of year. The Japanese variety of cicada is very loud and it used to drive me a little crazy, until I understood the poetry of its song. It sings for only a few nights to mate, before it dies. In those moments, does it cherish it�s existence? It should.
As do we all.
I heard a cicada yesterday at moonrise and I know there will be more singing tonight.
It's such a short life, the one they lead. I pity them, but I also enjoy their song.
During the three summers I spent on the island, the Japanese taught me their natural affinity for
the fleeting. I now share that love for the evanescent. These feelings that they�ve given me rush up to me now. This is why I love "tsuri" (cicada) music this time of year. The Japanese variety of cicada is very loud and it used to drive me a little crazy, until I understood the poetry of its song. It sings for only a few nights to mate, before it dies. In those moments, does it cherish it�s existence? It should.
As do we all.
posted by jblend at
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
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