Three bright yellow stars on a little box of matches,
in a kitchen in Reykjavik.

When lit, they flare up with uncommon energy and brightness.
This little box of matches is from Sweden, like your people.

Having said it badly once,
I want to tell you what you have taught me.
How joy and strength, honesty and humor, create sanity.

Goodness is a fragrance you exude, like soft brown bread.
Green shoots of grass, and leaves,
are brighter because you have told me about them.

Once, sitting together in a park,
a real-live bluebird settled onto a telephone wire in front of us.

A metaphor paying a call, making a personal visit.

You brought that bluebird to us.
I know it.

Because you are my beloved best friend,
a Swedish form of light.