If stars are like lamps
of the sky then
fireflies are the lanterns
of the wood
swirling, twirling,
giggling and chuckling
they brighten the darkest cores,
****
magical tiny beings they are
with a flickering torch
beneath their wings
they wait for the Gold
to kiss the horizon
so they can shimmer
the night like the Sun,
****
like a shooting star
they pace through the dark
into unknown parts
of the wild,
some admire their
golden flashlights
some bottle them
in glass jars and
enjoy as they
glitter their cabins,
****
to me, they are twinkling dreams
that vanish with daybreak,
in the darkness
they realise their abilities
as they glint along
the unravelled depths,
****
to a poet they are
his luminous muse
to a traveller they are
the earth’s firebug
to the poor they are
a glass pitcher brimming
with illume and hope
and
to the kids they are
floating stars on earth.
****
shimmering
fragile lustrous hopes
that trot the greens
in the dark
knowing their existence is
ephemeral yet celebrating
happily, the gift called Life.๐
PicCourtesy:GettyImages
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