Where did the fireflies of Summer go,
The dusk that smells of cool, cut grass asks!
The dulling blade that sheared the season away.
And the bulging bag that went agape at the seam;
Flailing breeze that stirred failing memories
And settled upon a moist scalp - All this
Remained.
Yet, one lingering question; a stab of regret.
The departing season of an unsettled passon
Bemoaned:
Where have the fireflies of yester-week gone?
Shimmers and arcs
of short-lived acrid light
Fade into graying ghosts
right before my eye;
Shadow-winged lightning bugs
flit, bob and weave
To fan the embers of a love I sought to believe.
But into the deep the swarm did dissolve,
Leaving behind,
The remains of a dream that went denied.
Fearless figures fall to the earth
With sure and airy fearsome grace;
Formless clouds wonder from afar
At featherless fliers, how swift they are!
Silken colors all puffed and bright
Agile and afloat on an azure sky;
Like whisteling wings deftly they alight
With spidery strings held just so right.
Fireflies and freefallers, all flit and fly,
With a sure and steady Will-power to defy.
Bugs of the night and the billows of the day.
In the light of the night; in the dark of Light;
Such light they shed on the simple creed,
That to transced it all is Life's pressing need!
My season in the sky of thrills and harms,
And of the Surly Bonds, a grave reminder.
But, O to ease into the grassy arms
Of green Gaia, is sweet surrender.
Asks the dusk that rests for the rest of Time.
Where then did the fireflies of this Summer go?
YOU ARE READING
Fireflies and Skydivers
PoesíaFireflies are tiny but totally fascinating creatures. They charm and delight the young and the old, and anecdotes abound about them. Skydivers too are a special breed of risk takers; similar to but different from bikers, surfers, stuntmen, daredevil...
