Fireflies bouncing on
the faint breeze of a warm summer night
pulse their beacon in a controlled pattern,
to attract a lover.
But their beloved baby glowworms,
lacking such learning and discipline,
let their light shine, perpetually
turned on.
When I was a young glowworm
my four year old self was a lantern
shining all around me, illuminating everything,
taking it all in.
As I grew, though I couldn’t increase my light,
I learned to control it by focusing
those same lumens as a spotlight, bright,
but very narrow.
Sometimes on a warm summer night, I pretend
I’m a little glowworm again,
without a care in the world, shining my light
on all my blind spots.