The leaves are washed with the moon's light,
And the only sound is the sound of the night.
The wanderer's eyes fell on the cricket,
Singing its song in the wild thicket.
Alone, and clueless - beholds his sight.
"What is it that you are doing?
Wasting your time just singing?
Why don't you do something useful
And make your life meaningful?
Tell me, O Cricket, what are you thinking?"
With a look that only something with antennae can give,
The wise nocturnal thus replies, "You, I sincerely forgive
For your uninvited interruption and arrogance
Stems from your profound ignorance.
Don't you see, this is the way to live!
"Those questions asked for free,
The answers are not for me.
To live is to live in the moment,
Without thinking where your life went,
And thank your stars truly."
Thus saying, the cricket goes to its song,
And the wanderer wonders if he's wrong.
The leaves are washed with the moon's light,
And the only sound is the sound of the night.
And I think the poet has gone far too long.
So stopping here.
Hope you enjoyed it... J
Tortuously yours,
Bij Chabs
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