The Cicadas in ’98

Such fear and panic, that the brood
Was so large, it was in Central Pennsylvania.
There were two broods that year, in the East and South.
Just like this year, 2024---hey, I might even be graced by them.
I see man, in such a light, now realizing their short memories
And poor intellect, fearful of an Eclipse and terrified of Cicadas in the same year.
To me, it's like striking the hour at noon, where the big and little hand meet together.
But there is this weird milieu, where people spread strange omens
About things that are as natural as a cataract or as wholesome as a bride adorned for her husband.
Yet, strangely, they whisper, like some great thing were happening
And it couldn't have been predicted 3000 years ago.
It could have, actually... that's what they don't understand.
But still, like squirrels gone nuts in the forest,
They must scramble, and dig, and take cover and shelter
From a nonexistent storm.
Where was the terror, o Israel? There was none.
Yet, strange omens, and prophecies, and divinations---
I'd be far more frightened if I didn't see them.