I take these things
Rays of forgotten laughter entangled in skyward branches
Glints of ancient tears enrobed in half-trodden rocks
Shines of discarded prayers ensnared in hidden eyries
I place them in the chambers of my charred heart
Blackened from use as a philosopher’s stone
(You see or perhaps you never know that)
I am the maker of fireflies
I travel unnoticed on crowded streets and abandoned alleyways
Dispensing these to land in worried eyes on wearied shoulders
(This being everyone I pass)
So when you suddenly stop in wonder at a beloved smile
Or lift yourself with a stranger’s aid
Know that I walked by
(in every age someone does this
As fireflies are essential)
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