August Sonnet

Raise voices like the praises insects make,

when shrilling crickets start to stridulate.

With highest summer height, make no mistake,

match buzzing sounds cicadas resonate.

Crash cymbals through the world’s injustice sharp,

and with right tymbals drum out jubilee.

Play sistrums with the cricket’s tiny harp

and pray along with Heaven’s tympani.

But I know every little abdomen

will die—a silent chamber passed away.

Yet, in my trusting soul, a glad ‘amen’

will sound the promise of eternal’s day.

So long as Christ lets voices amplify,

So long as hearts are raised to glorify.

David and the whole house of Israel

were celebrating with all their might

before the LORD,

with songs and with harps, lyres,

tambourines, sistrums and cymbals.

2 Samuel 6:5