Lord of Late Summer: A Poem by Yours Truly

Happy August, friends! I could have sworn that yesterday was May, but here we are. My late-summer flowers are blooming, the weather is scorching, and the cicadas are simply deafening. I love it!

While I’m always sad to say goodbye to my favorite time of year, summer’s not gone yet; in fact, she often saves the best for last. Rather than mourning the encroaching march of winter, I want to choose praise of today instead. Here’s a short poem I wrote a few years ago in celebration of the creator of all this late-summer beauty. Enjoy!

Lord of Late Summer

Grasshoppers praising raise a rasping summer song;
cicada-chorus buzz to long crescendo then rattle to rest.
Hot above the hush, unending chant of katydid percussion and
how-scant crickets chime staccato with tiny shouts  
   singing hallelujah, hallelujah to the Lord of late summer.

Doves perch above on high lines, mourning the fall from treble-holy Maker 
while all songbirds chirp, warble, glide, and gladly feed on seed provided.
Bumblebees, humming, sip the sunny, brilliant blooms 
and bullfrogs rumble, booming out annunciation to creation,
   singing hallelujah, hallelujah to the Lord of late summer. 

Wood wind whispers to me through the trees,
rustling rich-green tambourine leaves that flutter, clap, and jingle as I pass.
I sing, my feet softly stamping log-fallen earth, clay on damp clay,
as Spirit-wind symphony sustains my soul aloft, refrain of rebirth
   singing hallelujah, hallelujah to the Lord of late summer.