Each shrill, whining, or whooshing song is a call to the endless nature of love.
—David Rothenberg, Bug Music
Sometimes the only thing we need
to do is step slightly to the side
of the self. It is easier then
to see how beauty surrounds us,
how we ourselves contribute
to all this beauty.
By what odd trickery
do we forget to say thank you
in every moment?
We are not like the Magicicada
that must wait seventeen years
before our time to sing.
In this very instant we could emerge
and choose gratitude—
one way is to be wholly resonant,
to add our voice
to the one great music.
The other way is to listen.