It seemed a hiss

the drone of mating call

of insects lost in long grass

grating on short nerves

white noise on a muggy August eve

but that is just the speed

we think at. That’s the pace

we expect all else to race to

and when their mindless buzz

is heard with their ears

it becomes

for no reason but to sing

because that is the thing that must

be done

in ecstasy at being small before the One

How many more songs are being sung

by entities so small and fast-lived

that their chorus doesn’t register for us?

Too fine

cat’s purr five thousand hertz wide

distant whirr of planetary slide

a jive when played apace with human lives

and now I hear sense in my daughter’s cries

as tantrum slows to feverish high

I hear the words she tried to croon

the Mama, listen, Mama, pick me up –

it was a tune that spun on faster wheels
than mine, mismatching my headbeats

but that was the song her fever sang
the exultation it expressed
while I was too depressed
with longing for a quiet night
the silence of the stars as they creak past or
gentle buzz of crickets on a lawn
the white noise Nature gives the
world-worn so they’ll find peace there
in music they can’t hear

All things are in tasbih
for One who is to all these things

(* Tasbih is an Arabic word meaning glorification – i.e. of Allah, of God. It is said in Qur’an that every thing in creation has its own unique way of singing its ‘tasbih’ to God.)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s