A scattering of fireflies,
Low,
Spreading out, throbbing, pulsing,
Wandering through the glades,
Slopes, and forest fringes,
By your parents’ farm.
I had never seen so many,
Stretching over the fields as far as we could see,
Like the constellations above them.
They lined the driveway when we
Walked home from the fireworks
In the dark.
“What does it mean?” I asked,
As though the secrets of the kingdom
Of this world were just waiting
For a question.
You didn’t answer.
You just reached up and caught my
Question as it floated in the air,
Held it high,
And then let it go, flickering, into the sky.
Dear Walker,
Be still my soul! This was wonderful. I encountered fireflies, for the first time, a few years ago on a trip to Kentucky. I was utterly enchanted and it moved me to write a poem. They are indeed a magical gift from God.
Thank you for what you write. I was only just introduced to you via an article in The Epoch my father-in-law handed to me. It was on the epics and it made me cry; and so, of course, I looked up your substack. You are now one of the only three I follow. I’ve also got one of your books on my summer reading list. I am a classical educator who found classical education late in life and only recently completed a masters in the great books. I am also, a mother of seven and you give me hope (my sole son is called Walker). May God richly bless you as you swim against the tide of this present age!
Fleur
Loved it! I remember as a small child at my grandmothers farm in North Carolina, Everyone was rocking or sitting on the front porch after dinner. The whole world seemed sparkling like diamonds in the sky and on the grass. My aunt gave me a jar to catch fireflies. The whole jar was like a lantern lit!
I was fascinated but let them all go because when they are captured they lose their light...just like we do. God is sooo Good!