Darkness spreading. A hot summers night.
Magical beacons slowly rise from the earth to take flight.
Hovering close to forests edge, tiny glowing lights appear.
Some are higher, others low, some far, still others near.
Silent, coded messages being sent through the humid air.
With a timeless tempo like a lighthouse:
On Off....
On Off....
On Off....
A relaxed and steady winking.
Languorous, unhurried blinking.
The moon, above, is rising.
The sun, across, is sinking.
Recalling the joy of summers long past, I grin with a child's delight.
The fireflies greet each other anew, blessing me with the sight.
Peace to you, fellow traveler.
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