Outdoors, the evening calling from frogs long waned,
replaced with serenading crickets in excelsis.
A mid-summer swap when frogs,
perhaps feeling outnumbered,
a few silently snack on insects
while the rest grant them their loquaciousness.
And then there is the blue jay,
enchanting us as always.
This time down to the loss,
so long as we learn
the hurt along with the hope
The young and the free
A fitting bird to find her breeze
Time catches up
at some point back on holy ground.
Soon we’ll be dancing under sky beams,
singing your sweet melody all the same.