Cicada’s are the music
of the Tropics
on warm nights
when the armies emerge, they
undulate and spread
along the surface
of our world
billions of them showing
us the way
the earth moves with their
scrambling
creating
pulsating
defecating
living organisms
wings transcend
like gossamer rich thread
the sky above is cloaked in colour
the sun is up and everywhere shines red
listen to them
the chorus of the masses
it rocks the planets senses
with its hum
big red eyes
but some are trapped in their own shells
and perish
rodent fodder
clearly numb
for the extra wise
the females lay their eggs
and die and dwindle
peace reigns as their bodies
rot away
building up the compost in the forest
each of them has shared
their judgement day
in a while pulsating
shrimp like creatures
come into their own
as white as snow
Cicada’s its the heart beat of the Trojans
what everybody living now should know