Hand in hand we gather fireflies. Surrounded by a velveteen night, one that brushes against us with fingers that flow so smoothly through our hair and trails traces of tenderness with words of soft solace, we run together between the towering trees that stand as sentinels around us. And we know that we are safe here. So we sigh amongst the dots of light that float around us in their sea of serenity. We let ourselves ebb and flow with the glittering majesty, and we sink to the bottom of this ocean to rest on a bed of moss. With a thousand burning fireflies, the world never seemed so bright. Under the pale glow of the alabaster moon, surrounded by a thousand flickering candles, we are the heart of a glowing testament that there is light amongst darkness.
When the morning comes the sun rises upward over the mountain. And wearing a veil of clouds it bathes us in a light that falls dappled through the leaves. Surrounded by a thousand dormant jars, we stand and softly set the lanterns free. With a thousand whispers of thanks we drift wandering through the trees, to wherever we may go.
And as the night takes its turn, the aubergine air drifts down from the stars. As the sun takes its bow, the light drifts with it and sinks slowly below the horizon. And we leave our footsteps in our wake as we tread across the earth again, with jars in hand and love in heart. Chasing fireflies we gather the light, and surrounded with a thousand glowing hopes the night whispers through the trees, “You will sleep soundly beneath weeping willows while fireflies carve stories on your eyes and you words wing wishes up to the moon. But let things be the way they should be. Let raindrop tears fall softly on the moss; and in the morning, with hands to your heart, let the fireflies be free.”
