The Music of Fireflies

Your song

Catches me in the front row

Voices bounce around like fireflies

Lighting up a note, now here, now there

And right in front of God and everyone

Your fireflies squeeze fire from my eyes

The Writer’s Hammer

Some days I want to stay inside the house, inside myself, like Emily Dickinson.  It’s all too fuzzy to bring out into the light.

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To Tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

But somehow tucked away inside that 1860’s Massachusetts home she dared the gap between herself and her paper.

Sparking from the paper to the world, was for her, too wide a gap, and I can quite see why –

Ready or Not

Ready or not:

The restless waters

Seep the rocks of mind

Clean the clocks of time

 

The