Fireflies
Stories buzz like fireflies,
Floating in the breeze,
Separating truth from lies
And hovering there with ease.
They dream and hum about,
Upon the windy skies,
Sing their song without a doubt
Of far of lands within their eyes.
I catch them in my inky jars,
With pen and paper tether them down,
Fantastic thoughts from the stars,
From sea to country to urban town.
The lights I catch cannot be seen,
Nor tasted, touched or heard
But felt as though they’ve never been
Without a heart, never blurred.
They light the night within each breast,
Beneath the skin and bone,
To sing each sweet soul to its rest
And change what was never known.
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