Thu 16 Jun, 2011 06:17 am
Happiness is like fireflies on
A summer night, blazing slowly
And randomly in the growing darkness;
You reach for it with yearning,
Your jar is ready.
Holes poked in the top for air,
A few blades of grass for what
We imagine it feeds on.
And if you catch it, you sometimes
Try to shape it into something you
Fancy more useful, like a glowing ring,
Or strung-together bracelet.
But happiness is fragile, and
It will die without its wings,
Leaving behind a fading smear of light.
Happiness is enough in itself
meant to watch on the fly,
Unexpected blinks of light in the dark
Silent, comforting beacons that you cannot
Stay in their erratic flight,
But only let them be about their business.
And bask in its accumulated brightness.
Linda M. Langer
June 16, 2011