Song at Summer's End

One day it is there:
A sound in the afternoon,
Played on one string
As if the whole world
Were ready to hear it.
Crickets deep in the greenery
Start the tune
And the trees hum along
A whispered memory
Of something heard for ages
In the days of shorter light
And golden leaves.
It is just the beginning of an old song,
Heard with the heart,
A song of change, regret,
Childhood left behind, lost love,
A wish for something not yet seen. 
The stars may hear it, too,
As great Orion rises
Like a hunter waking to a distant horn.
And somewhere a listening child
Hers this song at summer's end,
And will remember the ancient chord--
This long, yearning, tender sound--
For all the years to come.
Perhaps it is the first of all notes,
The music from creation's dawn,
The holy sound of change and promise,
The note which is sung by God
Whenever he dreams
Of something new.

--September 1, 2013