Fireflies. Flickering, flashing, fascinating; words & a dance I can't hear or understand. I have never seen then before, but as I catch sight of a few of them scattered on my walk home from the library, I stop short and stand there and watch them. They are so pretty, sparkling and twisting like laughter. They are so very tiny, but they are still little lights, a brief flash against the gathering, growing dusk.

I suppose they are not so different than I; I am small, I am only one, I do not know much, but maybe I can sing hope long enough to light the way for someone to take a step.