Cicadas measure time differently.
they carry the weight of fables
on gossamer wings
emerging from graveyards
to hum unheard songs
Cicadas
Cicadas measure time differently.
they carry the weight of fables
on gossamer wings
emerging from graveyards
to hum unheard songs
Ladies and gentlemen, gather ’round,
For a tale of jazz where magic’s found.
It’s the story of Eunomos and a cicada’s flight,
A symphony of improvisation, pure delight!
Now Eunomos, he played the horn so fine,
But he longed for rhythms, outside the line.
One day a cicada joined him in his song,
With its buzzing beat, they couldn’t go wrong.
Eunomos, he started with his smooth melody,
But the cicada, oh, it played so freely.
Its chirps and trills, like notes from the sky,
They danced together, reaching so high.
They riffed and they jammed, in perfect sync,
Eunomos’s horn and the cicada’s wink.
Each note they played, a story to tell,
In the language of jazz, they cast their spell.
And as they played on, into the night,
They showed us all the power of flight.
For in jazz, like in life, we find our way,
Through improvisation, come what may.
So let’s embrace the chaos, let’s take a chance,
And let our souls dance in the jazzman’s trance.
For in the music of life, we find our flow,
Just like Eunomos and the cicada’s show.
-Delvin Claypool
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Wonderful! Why not link up to Jim’s prompt on Friday Faithfuls?
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Parts of the US are going to experience billions of them very soon!
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It’s their country ๐
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๐
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I’ve heard their sound, it is wonderful!
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I haven’t. It’s pure imagination.
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beautiful! I love cicadas and your characterization of them.
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Thank you so much!
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You’re welcome.
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