Friday, May 28, 2010

Thirteen Moons

Last night the moon was gold. It is known as the Full Flower Moon. Did you see it? It has been thirteen moons since I shared my love of them, remember? I quoted Rilke in that post; how I love to read Rilke. I thought of him earlier in the evening at a party while watching my children splash and play with friends in the pool. The night was warm but not uncomfortable and the company was full of laughter and good cheer. The cicadas sent out their last shrill chirps of the night as twilight stole the heat from dried sap branches of towering pine and elm. A child asked what the noise was. They all stopped eating their chocolate cake and turned wet heads and pale shivering shoulders to the trees and listened.

"A shrieking bird," the know it all exclaimed. They all nodded; satisfied she always has the answer. But then a smaller voice spoke up, the smallest in the group, and it protested.

My son said, "No, it is a cicada and he is singing a love song."

"Ugh! That's a terrible song!"

"Not if you're a girl cicada."

I hope your summer is full of laughter, friends, and terrible love songs.
Everything is blooming most recklessly;
if it were voices instead of colors,
there would be an unbelievable shrieking
into the heart of the night.
Rainer Marie Rilke


Left-Handed Housewife said...

I don't think Rilke is the only poet in your crowd. Cicadas are singing love songs. Exactly.


the Lady said...

I saw that moon. It was So Very amazing.