Every year I wait for the fireflies
and for the summer nights when
they flicker in the trees in the woods behind my house.
I call it my own light show, though
I know they don’t shine just for me
and I don’t have the heart to catch and hold them
in jars on my shelf,
to keep their sparkle and make it mine.
So I wait for them and watch them
for as long as they’re here.
And when the days get shorter and the nights get colder,
when they disappear,
I remember that all things in this world will come and go.
Nothing is forever. A hard lesson, learned over and over again.
I can’t hold on to the fireflies,
but I can watch them