The crickets sing each night, starting at dusk. Not one or two, but thousands, each telling the entire story. Every year, again this year, they return to remind me of what I have forgotten, and what I keep forgetting. One might think the madness of these creatures would reveal their lesson. Perhaps the clamor of sound is a warning. “Ah, remember this, or they’ll be back!” But something is lost then, between dusk and when the birds return, and the frenzy of cricket song yields to the birds’ morning hymn. The birds don’t care if I forget again. They lull me into forgetting and the soft bliss of not remembering. That is sweetness.
Hymn
Published by Jeremiah Ray
Jeremiah Ray is an interdisciplinary artist and writer. His visual artwork reflects an ongoing journey of exploration. Having traveled extensively during his formative years, he aims to teach others how to discover their unique voices in art, believing that it transcends verbal communication. In 2016, after being diagnosed with advanced testicular cancer, his perspective on art shifted significantly. This experience heightened his awareness of the challenges associated with vulnerability and communication. Guided by these themes, Jeremiah has embarked on a personal journey of healing and self-discovery. View all posts by Jeremiah Ray
Published