the cicada dubstep

and a riotous walk in the woods, on one of the hottest days of the year

I have walked this route a thousand times but it still 
Welcomes me
As if it were my first.
The heat is returning and starts to soar
The elusive lull at dawn slipped out the door

I find a smooth rock on the side of the hill
And here the shade still reigns.
The breeze,
Straight in off the sea like a prayer, 
Whispers over the land.
I catch it on the brow of the hill,
It’s a blessing from the gods 
If there is one

Another plane circles high above,
I suppose the pilot has said to his crew  
'Prepare for landing'
But the peace, down below, 
Is all mine.

A cicada sparks up.
Another.
Four start up their engines.
Then more!
Until the hillside crescendos
Mechanical, shrill tones
In a deafening concert,
All on one note!
I am surrounded by their roar at a thousand decibels or more.
Memories of Greece are impossible to ignore
The same crazed heat, 
Islands blessed, kissed, 
Tucked in, 
In a seamless azure 
With the added twist of this,
Camouflaged scream

The decibels rise some more
It’s nothing less than a storm
They're thugs!
A daft image flashes 
In the branches of squirrels with earplugs

Not one of these hell raisers tries a different note,
Not one of them attempts a harmony.
Their chatter is more of a clatter
Like neighbours on balconies hitting their pans,
Frying pans, copper and steel
Spatulas and wooden spoons
Unforgivingly loud and beat-less!
Well, sometimes in synchronisation
But mostly, 
It's utter pandemonium. 

These insects are like rebels without a cause.
Their song is a boisterous rap
A hot-headed chat up 
Lording over the merciless heat.
They do not need my pity, 
Devoid of a voice they maybe,
They can make themselves heard 
As far as the city

Strangely though, I find
Their furore doesn't stress like an engine might
Breaking silence in the middle of the night.
It's as if their sound inspires the soul?
Their insane screech is the height of contradiction
With the power of a feather 
It harmlessly, noisily, simply means 
You have reached the pinnacle of summer
'Come join us and worship the heat'.

So we share this wonder,
The beauty of green on blue.
The tranquillity they praise
Is mine too.
From the side of this hill
The peace is all ours
To do what we will.

I dust off my skirt,
And as I walk home through the trees
The penny drops.
Their screeching makes me feel alive,
Makes me realise
I love this heat.
So it's a love-hate thing!?

Summer rejoices to a million screeches
There's not a soul in sight,
It's pure dubstep 
To a thunderous scent of pine!
Alone, but not,
You are never really alone.

One thing is true, 
It's all an art,
I have lived here long enough to know,
That the true art of dodging this heat,
Is a mix of distraction, ignoring your fears
And using all your gears!
Nevertheless, 
I have to admit,
Accepting this kind of heat
Has taken me, 
Absolutely,
Years.

woods in Cicada territory @naturetorque