Chorus
The tenor chorus of the frogs;
The soprano chorus of the crickets,
Urgently and fervently trilling
Their mating calls
From the young bulrushes,
Carried in the warm, spring, evening air
Are like a man’s and woman’s calls
To each other
In their God-given tenors and sopranos;
Yet, the slower, thoughtful lapping
Of the gentle waves on shore
Tempers the mating atmosphere
Like human thoughtfulness
About each other’s characters,
In the light of God’s guidance:
That we are not merely frogs;
That we are not merely crickets
Who mate
Without consideration
Of suitable character.


Cy, 1990?