Fireflies

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The harsh night wind has stilled, my child,

And sleeps on dreary darkling skies.

Wet weeping leaves shed heavy tears,

That strike the pond’s still black water,

Like the clock ticks of drunken Time,

And floating withered autumn leaves

Scurry from the watery craters.

 

There beyond are sodden woodlands

Where silent birds tremble in the dark

And unseen voles flee starving shrews

‘Til frighted darkness flees the dawn.

Listen to the night; try to hear

each voice singing a solo song

in a different tongue; yet all say

 

That to listen is not to hear;

That mere knowledge isn’t wisdom;

That what’s unseen is not unreal.

And in this  bright flashlight beam,

As each thick drop strikes black water

A firefly flashes there to prove

its reflected light’s eternal.

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