One fall evening, as the stars appeared one by one, a cricket said to the wind, Fellow prophet, what is your opinion? Is anyone listening? And the wind replied, Only the end of the world. The cricket thought about this for some time. Alas, that is something I cannot imagine. You are fortunate. You have traveled, and that is a place you have seen. The wind paused. Feeling pity for the cricket, and perhaps just a little for itself, it said, Come. Follow me. But the cricket did not move. There is no need, said he. I am content with eternity. Suddenly a tree’s voice was heard. It was that of a tall, graceful pine. I, it said softly. I am listening. And the night became quiet and solemn and dark.
August 28, 2020
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Crickets, Diaries, Eternity, Fall, Journals, Listening, Poems, Poetry, Prophets, Wind