Leaning into the bud of the night
                      the moon is still wake
                           tonight sleep no one!

Ask me not why?
     Narrative is the tuberose's
                             and the fireflies'
                                    me too is wake!

Catching a glimpse
of tiny sparks,
Around the corner
away in the dark.

I run after them
in wild desire,
Were they embers
from a bonfire?

Or shooting stars
fallen from the sky,
Or specks of gold
that can fly?

I run again
in the dying dusk,
After the glitters
on beds of musk.

The lights become brighter
in the fading twilight,
Twinkling alone
in the warm night.

I run faster
beneath the trees,
But they vanish
into the fragrant breeze.

Air of crisp breeze
Lingering scent of pine trees
Fine needles of evergreen
Stars above, twinkle and glow
A scene so calm and serene

All about
As though they had fallen to Earth
Little ***** of humming illumination
Yellow, like delicate embers seemingly flow
Without care or doubt
Like fragments of fire from a hearth
Drawing ever nearer
A vision almost never clearer
As the nights rise and fall

- Jay M
March 6th, 2021

Calm and content
Not a thing to lament
Air crisp, delicate breeze a whisper
Sky faded with evening glow
No need to whine or whimper
Let it all go

Far above, distant celestial lights
Dancing, scattered across the vastness
A scene so beautiful, so serene
Soaring in lesser heights
Orbs illuminate yellow
Floating throughout the darkness
In the distance, trees of evergreen
Little insects waving hello
In the fading, evening glow

- Jay M
March 8th, 2021

the sky is clear— i go on about my day
as i pass the crystal roads
i saw a feline; astray
i go up to the cat and ask them
“is there anything worth it, my friend?”
hoping for a response, but to no avail
i leave the feline alone and go on about my day
the moon has risen— i prepare to sleep
suddenly i remember the cat on the street
i walk outside and see fireflies
i hear them echo through my ear
looking for the cat, i cannot see but hear
“meow” it calls me, as i walk towards the direction
only could i have noticed i was lost in the dark alley
but the cat i finally found, he was black and round
and then it tells me “there is always something
worth it, even when it’s blurry”

Fireflies in a bottle
Beautiful, aren’t they?

Bottled to be appreciated
Trapped to be admired

Left suffocating
For our own convenience.

Tiny lives he had trapped,
inside a big old jam jar.
They twirled and fluttered,
fire sparks of light afar.

His prize possession,
A starry piece of the night,
that brought him lots of joy
and gave off so much light.

Alas, they danced less,
a faint light they did make.
So, in a last act of love,
his jar he had to break.

And off they all did fly,
up into the darkest night.
He turned to his eyes up
and noticed all the light.

So consumed to keep,
a few stars of light,
he had failed to notice
the heavens shining bright.