Evening Crickets — A Poem

Crickets roam our bedroom, 

gentle chorus in the gloaming.

Stalking through once-silent dreams; 

on tiny feet, a-roaming. 


Where do they go, my crickets, when 

the nighttime hours fade? 

When the darkness peels away to light, 

and the bed is carefully made? 


I check in all the crevices, 

the crannies and the nooks—

I research on the internet.

I cross-reference it in books.

I riffle racks of dresses

in the murky walk-in robe,

peer under all the scattered shoes

and unfold my folded clothes.

But my gryllidae stay hidden

until the evening falls. 

I am left here—searching—

amidst four silent walls. 

Some days are for writing veterinary biographies, some for dreaming up epic fantasy novels… and some days, you just have to write a poem about crickets. 

Creativity has many forms, none more valid or worthy than another, and I think that’s something that’s often lost in discussions about creative expression. Sometimes it’s fun to write little rhyming poems! Not everything has to be deep or earth-shattering or prize-winning material (a reminder for myself as much as everyone else). 

I think it’s important for our creative processes to be responsive to what we need and what we can provide in any given moment. I’m looking forward to exploring some ideas about creativity, process, inspiration and progress in the coming few weeks… I hope you’ll join me!

-A.