Produced by Dennis Camire
This week’s poem is by Jim Thatcher of Falmouth.
Crickets, Frogs, Fireflies, Owls, and Cosmos
By Jim Thatcher
Tonight, out here on the edge of this meadow I call my Star Field,
where I come many nights to follow the constellations
through their seasons, I am greeted not by the usual chorus of frogs —
but on this night a full orchestra — many more frogs
than I’d ever heard here before — all of them accompanied
loudly and fully by the trilling of an exultant chorale of crickets —
a resonant strong symphony — an elation to my ears — all conducted
by two owls — one inside the edge of the woods to the north, the other
in the nearer woods to the south — all of this crowned by a glimmering
cosmos of fireflies — many more of them, too, than I’d thought I’d see —
their slow iridescences wavering, hovering, gliding, but rising,
spreading, filling their elevation as though in praise of all below
and all the cosmic beauty in the sky above — their glory to it
accentuated by the sudden flash of two meteorites — one following
immediately behind the other, their alarm drawing my eye upward
beyond their passage to bring me back into the mission of my delight —
to circle again through the illumined mysteries in the towering infinity above —
first to the brightest, Jupiter, up under the long magnificence of Leo,
then east to Spica, just above Scorpio with Antares, its pulsing yellow heart —
and above all that Great Red Mars, brighter now than it’s been in years.
I swing my gaze far back to the west beyond Leo to Gemini, then circle
northward past Perseus to Cassiopeia the Queen, and east again beyond her
to the wide, long, Summer Triangle — Deneb in Cygnus, Vega in Lyra,
Altair in Aquila — and there, high above all, Polaris and its Bears
and between them the long reptilian curl of Draco the Dragon,
its diamond head about to strike at Hercules, while all the while
here, below, in the little galaxy of this meadow the concert continues,
an exhilaration flaring in all the space around and within it and I am
held here filled with its energy, my body rocking, brimming with it,
my feet pacing in place as I utter little prayers of thanks to every star,
every planet, every constellation, every cricket in their chorus
every choir of frogs, every hooting of the owls, every firefly
become starfly, every deep wonder of this night . . .
Dennis Camire can be reached at dcamire@cmcc.edu
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