Sunday, March 11, 2007

The Cicada

I shall
And shall never
Understand the cicada.

Their voice becomes the night
And the night becomes their silence
And their silence becomes the land.


And their voice
Is a voice
Elder to the gods.

2 comments:

Michel said...

I love the poem; for me,the sound of Cicada remind me of being a young child in Africa; it is very comforting.

Paul Sunstone said...

I'm happy you like it, Michel. Thank you!