0029 This Night, This Night Of Endless Miracle

On this Mediterranean night with its light breeze scented with the sun-warmed herbs drifting down from cooling, stony hills, a million stars you’ve never seen before shine on a million crickets singing as if from eternity to eternity and you cannot say, and there’s no need to say, which is which; the trembling of the stars, the susurration of cicadas, join as in endless praise of the imagination of their maker who made imagination too and though the cicadas, singing, may never know that the stars they sing to are shining from a thousand years ago and though the stars may never know that the cicadas that they shine upon are a thousand years here from their now, it’s all known, to the mind that made the vines that made the grapes that made the wine singing in my veins tonight like cicadas susurrating in the starlight as you hear them now this night, this night of endless miracle