It may be late, but I can’t sleep.
Crickets singing loudly,
Down below in the garden, drunk on love,
Hungry to find each other in the dark.
Their whole neighborhood is up,
Gossiping, I suppose; scratching legs.
I’m out on the deck, listening for God;
Looking up at the stars on clear night,
Totally conscious… wondering
Why things sound so much different
Late at night, under spell of moonlight,
Looking down on the garden, drunk on love.