The Cricket

by Maria Reed-Shore

Cricket chirping in the night,
Good Omen of the Orient,
Chanting lullabies,
Hushed by sound of strange feet,
Watch dog of the insect world.

Prisoner in a clay pot,
Tended by friendly hands,
Nourished by water and rice,
Tell me of your secrets,
Are you Content to exist.

Humanity suspended in space,
Our fate...exiled on a clay sphere.
Learn from the cricket,
He has something to say.

02-Apr-2000

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