Musing: The Cricket and I

“Weet weet weet… Weet weet!”
I hear the screeching of the little cricket
Calling to the quietness in my heart

As the light of the lamp fade slowly
Then time brought back my memories
For in my sweet and lonely reverie
A desire come to me for some poetry

Left with the screeching of an insect
Which has turned to become a friend
Quietly in solemn patience I wait
To the crickets call I humbly listen

And when the nights are lonely
I stay grateful to God Almighty
For blessing me with this gift that makes all happy
And for this little cricket which sings me a lullaby



After the rains…
The white clouds come forth
The wetness settle on all

Behind the quiet little huts
Pots are filled with the waters
Which the rain has brought

And still the rain drops fall
From the vertex of rooftops
Whose head hung proudly

The roads are muddy and slippery,
Fine sand particles washed away, while
The little hamlet on the red mud sleeps

The coolness comfort the clan
For the Nights’ treacherous wind
Took her toll on all that was awake

Soon, the butterflies will fly about
The sunflowers gold will shine
As the sun rise above the hills

What a beautiful scenery to behold
When the sun rises, above the hamlet
Painting the greens, the faces and the land gold,