Fireflies

Over Somerset Hill
An hour past the new day
My father took my hand
“Don't you tell your mother about this”
He whispered
Beaming smile in dark night
The old wooden canoe
Transported us across
The rippling waters reflecting
The starlit sky

Little footsteps followed the large footsteps
Tall, strong, in front of me
Blanketed by the comfort of his shadow,
Cast in the presence of gracious moonlight
In the depths of the foliage
Father sat me down next to him
“Be silent”, “Wait for them”

As the breeze picked up the withered leaves
On their journey through the night
I had reached the end of mine.
For there were millions
Millions of blessed souls
Glowing like jeweled specks of light
Encircling my father and I
Outlining every leaf and flower
In what appeared to be pure gold.

It was a moment of clarity.
Eyes open to the ideals of virtue
And the invaluable life in every single one
Of the brilliant creatures that surrounded me.
I found myself staring at the man beside me
In complete awe
Filled with the utmost gratitude to be witnessing what I was

I watched father walk away
Far into the distant night
Never turning back
Until it was just me, and the fireflies.