The Laughing Loons

The Laughing Loons

It’s after dusk here,
The lake now silent,
The storm now passed.
What was a blustery day
Is now a beautiful night.
Gently floating on
The cool summer breezes,
A dark figure appears ahead
On the water.
Its outline is distinct,
And its spirit is unmistakable
As this creature of God’s Earth
Begins it’s mournful call
That haunts so many dreams.
It is the cry of the Loon.
It echoes through the wooded
Banks surrounding an otherwise
Unspoken lake, calling
To memories past, and
Memories yet to begin.
Moments pass, and it is
Answered by an equally
Mournful call,
Wanting, wishing
Waiting to die,
Waiting to live,
Waiting for an absolution
That may never come.
Time passes, and our breeze
Carries us away from
The melancholy of such a
Dreary moment.
Gone in an instant,
Back in the next,
The call follows us
Across the deep blue
Waters of Lake Kabekona.
As we sit,
And listen,
To the silence of the lake,
The voice of nature,
A chaotic laughter begins
To erupt around us,
Surrounding us in this
Laughter we’ve never heard.
There is nothing we
Can do but sit
And laugh with them.
The loons are laughing at us
Are laughing with us.
It is a piping chorus
Of distress,
Of alert,
Of fear,
But to us,
It is laughter.
Soon, too soon,
The laughter ceases,
And endlessly echoes
Into the memories
Of the eternal forest.