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.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Stumble It!
2 comments:
I love the poem; for me,the sound of Cicada remind me of being a young child in Africa; it is very comforting.
I'm happy you like it, Michel. Thank you!
Post a Comment