Have you ever noticed

some nights

some nights

it’s as quiet as can be

and it almost seems

for a moment

as if we’re all living on a planet of peace?

A cool breeze drifts in.

A few crickets — here, there.

We go on about our way

and nothing about the world of red dust

manages to get on some of us.

Other nights,

the air itself

holds the sting of existence.

Then, another night comes along

and something else happens.

A lone chirp.

That chirp stirs two.

Two turns to three.

Three becomes a cacophony in the trees.

You listen closely and realize:

Those aren’t the night birds of longing.

Those are frogs ‘setting up a calling’.

The chorus begins to carry.

The chorus rumbles.

The chorus actually rumbles.

The chorus carries and rumbles.

Then comes the thunder.

Then comes the rain.

And it’s like that movie

Emerald Forest

where the shaman

prays to the frogs

and the frogs

call the rain

and the rain

swells the river

and the river

knocks down the dam

that the Termite People made.

I can’t help but think

invoking The Spirit of Peace