Life Moves On

Cicadas chirp, cicadas call
They can be heard so far away
Cicadas in chorus, all day long
Through the merry month of May.

There is a heatwave on
But the cicadas sing
Their voices can't be stilled
for anything.

Cicadas loud - never soft
A hundred and seven decibels
(Like baby Billy cooing
after too many cookies are crumble!!)

Cicadas sing, cicadas dance
Cicadas fly, cicadas prance
Cicadas hide if you approach
Never taking a chance

Bur in seven years, maybe ten
Cicadas lay down, never to rise again
The end of the story everyone knows
Cicadas die - because life's river flows

Like every living creature upon the planet
Cicadas have a life span, and it
Goes against nature to prolong it much
So after a life well lived, welcome death's touch

If a cicada couldn't sing, if it couldn't fly
It would no longer laugh, just sit and cry
So it is with humans too,
If we couldn't do what we were born to

So I wonder about modern medicine
Which keeps organs running when they're done in
A pacemaker when the heart doesn't work
A stent or two when arteries shirk

And all along the human being
Is dying within, and is seeing
Emotional damage that pills can't reverse
Holding on to life becomes almost perverse

When the cicada can't be loud anymore
Let it float gently to the other shore
The cicada was meant to be loud
Its voice stilled only on the golden cloud.