by Peggy River Singer
A few years ago, during a major cicada emergence, I was visiting a friend who lived out of town. As I said my goodbyes and walked to my car, I thought I could hear singing off in the distance. There were no buildings within a mile, no vehicles blasting music, and it wasn’t coming from my phone, so I pulled my car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine to listen.
The voices were ethereal, pure, angelic, faultlessly intertwined, filled with light and love. They were coming from a grove of trees.
The singers were cicadas, but what I was hearing was the opposite end of the spectrum from the whining drone I was accustomed to on hot summer days. This was the voice of Spirit, expressed through insects.
For the past week, I’ve been hearing cicadas around my neighborhood, and it has reminded me of that breathtakingly beautiful song. The Cicada Queen graciously agreed to help me understand this experience.
Queen: Those humans who are able to hear us are experiencing a rare gift indeed. We are aware of your kindness toward our people; on several occasions you have moved dying and injured cicadas to safe locations and left them with a blessing. This is part of the reason why you were allowed to hear our higher selves singing on that day.
We are indeed a voice of the Earth itself, a single strand in the chorus of all that is. A human writer has rightly described us as “tiny violins with wings.” We are born, we live, we mate, we die, solely to sing our songs.
The frequencies we sing sharpen, clarify, and enhance the purity of the energies of a place.
Peggy: Do you create the songs yourself, the way a human writes a song?
Queen: No, Creator sends the songs through us, and we express them.
Peggy: Do you sometimes sing for your own pleasure, as we do?
Queen: Not in the way you are thinking of it. Our existence, our task, our songs, are our pleasure and our reason for being.
Peggy: What happens on cooler days when your people are less active? Do the songs continue?
Queen: Yes, on a different level. We are well able to attune our bodies and the sound waves to accommodate those conditions.
Peggy: Do your people form friendships? Do you recognize familial relationships?
Queen: Each of us is aware of all the individuals in our group. We do not experience animosity, love, impatience, joy, or other human-style emotions among ourselves. We exist in a state of Grace. We exist to sing.
Peggy: Cicadas provide important food and nutrition for many kinds of animals, as well as humans. Do your people grieve for those who are eaten?
Queen: We care not what happens to the physical form we inhabit. We are aware of that aspect of our life cycle, but it does not detract our attention from our sacred task. Creator has arranged for our bodies to “run themselves” while our spirit sings on.
Understand that most of our songs cannot be heard by human ears. If this were not so, humans would not be able to focus on their own lives and doings; they would be overwhelmed by the beauty and power of our songs.
Peggy: Is there anything else you’d like to share with us today?
Queen: All things sing, each in their own way: a flower, a butterfly, a star, a stone, a mighty whale, all sing and contribute to the Great Song that rings through the Universe from this planet. There are no limitations, no restrictions, no rules, only the expression of love and light. Every being who reads these words is capable of hearing, and joining, the Great Song. It will be a different experience for each, unique to that being. It is time for me to return to The Song. Blessings.
Peggy River Singer is a Lightworker, all-beings channel and communicator, faerie ally, Reiki practitioner, and life-long writer who combines her gifts to help create harmonious relationships among all who share the Earth. Connect by phone at (734) 548-0194, or by email at newbluecanoe@aol.com. More articles and columns are posted on angelsfairiesandlife.wordpress.com.
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We practice for these times, for times like this in the world. We go to our mat, under our shawl, sit on our cushion, to find peace amid the rubble of grief, rage, and fear. We attend to our practice precisely so that when the tides of emotion are strong, so is our practice. We return again and again to our breath, to our body and mind in the moment, returning to ourselves. Our ancestors developed these practices because they knew—they knew that we could be swept off our feet by our emotions, our ability to choose wisely blinded by the redness of rage or the waters of our grief