Under an overpass

The trucks surging overhead

Waves of sound passing

“Death, death, death.”

And then they are gone

And what remains

Is the tiny sounds of crickets chorusing

“Life, life life.”

The sounds of death often seem

Louder than the sounds of life

But they don’t cast farther.

The sounds of death only go to the ear.

The sounds of life

Go all the way to the heart

And cause the strings of the heart to vibrate

And when the strings of the heart vibrate

They cause vibration in the strings

Of the next heart, and the next, and the next,

Until there is a chorus of hearts

All singing to the same note

A rhythmic community of hearts

A rhythmic community of souls

A rhythmic community of spirit

A rhythmic community of love.

(Cricket image by Thomas Quine via Wikimedia Commons)