The sky boat floated just beneath the moon,
Just above imagined ivy-mantled tower.
Gold-flecked, ivory clouds just out of reach,
Like the firefly,
Suspended just ahead, pale then gold-light,
Beautiful against brilliant 12 O'clock blue,
Blue deep as overwhelming sea,
Tear-jerking, snare of senses,
Lo this sight of feeling,
Mem'ry of freedom livid,
Warming; caressing once stone-tight grey
face.
Entranced by a sudden breeze,
A taste of grass, scent of ocean and sand,
Feeling of spirit, sounds of heavy moth wings,
As a whole, finally, an image of embodied freedom.
Suddenly something bubbles up, crawling along skin,
Dragging along newly heightened expectation.
My Firefly glows ever brighter, deep fire-light,
But still a little less than Moon Mother above,
So bright, capable of ling'grin behind closed lids,
Permanent, like this new hope,
A hope like a wish newly formed,
Warm and vulnerable and free.
                           -MoonFirefly