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The Cicada Rumble

It's been a long time since the cicadas rumbled. History books say 'twas eighteen hundred and three When war struck the trees where bees sometimes bumbled. The seventeen and thirteen boys couldn't agree. The horror of those days can't be told in rhyme, But that war to end wars, we may again see. I tell you children that it's once again time. It's history that tells us and also some math - It's because thirteen and seventeen are prime. For the first time since, they're headed down that path With products and least common multiples the same, Their hatch cycles will line up in nature's cruel wrath. In twenty twenty-four bugs will kill and they'll maim. Do they just need more food to all eat hearty For them to be happy and peace to proclaim?

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Sam Kauffman

Date: 4/19/2024 11:36:00 AM

Hi David, I like this poem and the way you have taken the cicada hatch to musings about the cycle of wars. Very timely. I was in Maryland doing some work during a cicada hatch. I learned to love their humming. It became a summer night lullaby. Perhaps we should not fall asleep but stay vigilant in the pursuit of peace. Blessings to you.

David Crandall
Date: 4/21/2024 9:29:00 PM

Thanks Sam! I don't know how I made the leap, seemed funny, but just the concept of how they hatch on such long intervals, and that different species have different intervals, and how the numbers matchup is fascinating to me. I wonder if the 13-year cicada's and the 17-year cicada's humming will be harmonious this year.