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I remember those many summer nights catching fireflies,
Childhood dreams of capturing their light in a Mason jar.
Many holes punched in the brass lid for them to breathe,
Only to discover the next morning an empty jar once again.

The fireflies beauty cannot be held prisoner by God's decree;
Destined to be natures earthly stars, doing their dance each evening.
Generations pass down to the next generation this fascination,
Catching the phosphoric bugs gently in our hands, then we release.

I still love to watch them as the sky twinkles with their beauty,
Zooming back into my childhood in a super speed time machine.
I wait patiently for my grandson to be old enough to pass on this love,
Teaching him to admire and protect God's sparking night lights.

Oh, those summer evenings spent enjoying this communion;
Fireflies flitting from place to place, landing on my nose or face.
Simple joys from simple times, a peace still sweeps over my heart,
When the fireflies rise at dusk from the ground to light up the sky.


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