The Firefly

Jane Stuart


Let there be wind, and wood, and
let fuzzy April come again,
shaking her green head down in grief;
let the moon cry in disbelief,
and black night moan, and wet winds
Bring back the world that once was
and take me back in time to be
alone, enchanted, young, and free.

What were the flowers blooming then?
How does the dusty rain smell? When
does April come? And what is spring?
I have forgotten how to sing
and how to walk with naked feet.
I used to know these things. How sweet
my world, a world no longer there.
Bring back the hours, and take me where
I heard the magic word of Quiet--
and spun my dreams of endless night.

A golden firefly came to rest
once on the silky air; it pressed
its light against my trembling lips,
and then flew to my fingertips.
I held it up; I held the night.
And saw the world in its small light.
And then I let it fly away,
and went to live in endless day.