Fireflies

I stand in this field.
All is silent,
all is calm.
The world itself is in the sacred realm of slumber.

I look up and gasp.
A thousand fireflies above my head.
They blink in and out of sight.

They flit about around me.
Blinking in and out of sight.
A dance so strange and new,
but ancient and warm.

They swarm here and disipate there.
They make me want to fly,
to float along with the silent music.

The magic they hold,
the beauty of the strange floating dance,
the silent music that fills the air.

Fireflies.