The crickets sing a lullaby in the night wind,
which saws through trees with such ease
it carries me off to high seas
a high i can’t refuse;
a feeling i won’t lose;
peace, and
contentment.
The moon peers at me in her tower,
waiting for the final hour
in which she almost gets to see
the love which simply cannot be
between her and the yellow sun,
forced apart and on the run
they follow trails they can’t derail;
a web so spun, but not undone;
a hill that Sisyphus scales,
a night that Diogenes lights,
Constant, and in vain.
The little escorts by their side,
Though they may try and hide;
Weep with cosmic apprehension
As they hang so, in suspension,
Fearing in their atmosphere
The universal end is near.
A day, or night, when at last
The sun or moon might just break past
Their endless lover’s barricade
And all of life will surely fade.
The heavens fall like rain and stardust,
All because of true love’s lust.
Timeless, and so worth it.
But on this night I feel I’m safe
And in this fact I have some faith
That the crickets go on singing, and
The wind-saw goes on ringing,
And I’m drifting in the sea of stars
Coasting in the lake of clouds
And we’ll all float on,
Okay.
