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)