In each fist I hold a stone.

I open my left hand and let the stone drop.

It is white but in its descent

Turns three times, changing to black.

I open my right hand and let the stone drop.

It is black but in its descent

Turns naught, remaining black.

Before they strike the ground, each transforms into a bird.

The left stone a raven, the right stone a dove.

The raven is the color of sunlight.

The dove is the color of the midnight sky.

Each flies to alight on my face; each plucks out an eye.

Having been Cassandra, I now walk as Tiresias.

Though I had never struck serpents

Nor foolishly judged a heavenly duel

Nor even glimpsed an owl unfeathered,

I am blinded and transformed

Yet still possess the unfortunate gift granted me originally:

I speak true words but am not heeded,

My voice lost beneath the mocking laughter from the sky.

This is not my heart only

It is yours and yours and yours

The sighing rhythm of the world interrupted

The anguished catch in a singer’s wail

The mournful drone of a cello’s tuning

I do not nor ever would keep these hidden

I throw them out to join the circulatory swirl

Let you hear what I hear

For I have heard your voices also

With every joy every sorrow every soaring song

Echoing in my dreams and we are never alone

The rain on the grass the wind in the leaves

We raise our heads to the sky for a glimpse of the sun

The beat the ebb the flow the beat the ebb the flow

On and on and on in us all

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)