Jugnu

The Firefly

The firefly's light in garden's deep domain, Or candle lit where flowers now convene?

Has some lone star flown down from skies of night? Or has a moonbeam quickened into light?

In night's domain, has day's own envoy come? In exile bright, though nameless back at home.

A button fallen from the moon's silk coat, Or on sun's garment, one bright, shining mote?

A hidden glimpse of Primal Beauty's light, Which Nature brought from solitude to sight.

This tiny moon holds darkness and holds light, Now free from shadow, now consumed by night.

A moth, a firefly—both take to the air; One seeks the light, one is the light to share.

To all things Nature gave a special grace: The Moth, a burning; firefly, light's embrace.

To voiceless birds, a vibrant song was sent, And to the rose, a tongue for silence meant.

The twilight's beauty is its fading hour; It gave that fairy brief and shining power.

It dressed the dawn, a bride in beauty's grace, In crimson robes, with dew to see her face.

It gave the trees their shade, the wind its flight, Gave water flow, and waves their restless might.

But this distinction is a human plight, The firefly's daytime is our deepest night.

Of Primal Beauty, every thing's a trace: In man, it's speech; in buds, a bursting grace.

This moon above is like the poet's heart, What there is moonlight, here is sorrow's dart.

The forms of speech have tricked us, else we'd know The song's a scent, the scent a tune's soft flow.

In all the Many, Unity lies deep; The firefly's shine is scent the flowers keep.

Why then should difference be a cause for strife, When Eternal Silence hides in all of life?