Night

We can’t hear the song

The world sings

As it spins—

Only birds hear it—

Crickets, frogs

And whales in the deep.

Mankind has fallen asleep.

Dawn

Just before dawn

Song birds join together in a chorus

While night birds turn their heads

And dream of Eden.

We have forgotten Eden.

We are asleep.

High Noon

Bright green and black damselflies fly over

Bright babbling streams—

Spotted brook trout fan their tails

in deep cold holes—

They know the song of Planet Earth—

As it turns each day, they

Knew it from the moment of birth.

Dusk

On the salty reef certain fish harmonize—

Fish elegant in shapes colors patterns

In harmony with seasonal cycles.

I would like to return to the sea

To follow its ebb and flow

And know the Earth’s song

After the sun has set.

Dark Memories from Missouri

Dark Memories

 

Locusts buzz Missouri Missouri Missouri

In the trees above.

Their empty shells cling to thin bark

Like cast off suits of armor—

Hinged with sightless moon eyes.

 

All night crickets chirp like stars

And we lay on the grass—

Too hot to go to bed upstairs.

 

In the moonlight fat bodied moths

With huge wings:

luna clear as moonlight

 polyphemous, with owlish blue eyes,

cecropia mottled with gold

Sip from flowers that scent the humid air.

We hear the blinking of lightening bugs

And the secret sound of earthworms

Tunneling mazes below our blankets.

 

And we listen to ears of corn growing

In the Victory garden.

Their silken threads gossip of

Mayans and Pottawatomis.

We can hear

The trumpet vine’s brassy blare

And fox hounds baying near Hinkson Creek

Far far away.

 

                                                --Barbara Spring

 

When I was a kid I lived in Columbia, Missouri.  I have vivid memories of living there. 
 Below, my watercolor of a luna moth.