A Poem
by Ned

I switch off
the engine
the radio
step out
of the car
door closing behind me
with a dull thud.
I expect silence
but hear instead
the faint lovely creak
of the harbinger;
first of the peepers
and tiny tree frogs
to emerge,
whose passionate
desperate joyful song
will evolve
into oratorios of yearning
as the chorus is joined
night after night;
as the world sings to itself of
its celebration of the present
and blind faith in the future.
On this cool March night
the one, the two, the three
sing to me the timeless song
that fulfills the promise
as it renews it -
not to succeed
but to give itself up
to the endless, abundant effort
of life's longing for itself.