Music in The Mist
I stand entranced in moonlight and hear music in the mist,
A sweet cacophony of melody that I find I can’t resist,
Mist rising from the meadows beneath the brilliance of the moon
And the crickets cheerful chirping from across the lone lagoon.
As I listen for a moment I hear the bark of distant dogs,
And then as if in answer comes the croak of many frogs,
Followed on by nervous quacking of some passing waterfowl,
Disturbed from their wetlands by a dingo’s vibrant howl.
Through the trees a gentle breeze as soft as falling snow
That brings to me some memories of things of long ago,
I see again a water rat as it preens itself upon a log
While down at the swamp a tadpole turns into a little frog.
I hear again the sweet refrain of the Curlew’s plaintive call
As it came to me clear and free through the ghostly timbers tall,
Nocturnal birds fly silent by on their evening hunger prowl,
The rodent’s need to meet and breed cut short by the hunting owl.
These are some of nature’s wonders that city dwellers never see,
For the pollution and the traffic is like a visual boundary,
That separates the wealth and squalor of most City’s populations
And makes it hard for city folk to enjoy all God’s creations.
The health of plain and mountain and the waterways as well
Are judged by all the wildlife that in their shelter happily dwell,
But the greatest barometer that there is, is the wildlife dialogue,
While preceding all is the vibrant call of a multitude of frogs.