Fireflies

I try to catch my words like fireflies
and store them in a jar.
I cannot.
Whenever I lift the lid to speak again,
the jar talks to me…
And off they fly.

In the silence,
inspired thoughts
make pleas for their own release.
Within moments
they are captured by another,
no longer mine.

Anything but silence is futile
when it comes to liberating
the true meaning of my fireflies.

tis nothing if not heardEmail this to someoneTweet about this on TwitterShare on Facebook0Print this pageShare on Google+0

4 Responses to Fireflies

  1. MINE NOW. Nom Nom Nom…

  2. Avatar skyblueandblack
    skyblueandblack says:

    why do you want to keep them for yourself? Is it not nobler to give?

    • mm… and we do. We often listen with deeper intention when there is not a sound to be made or heard. What I say comes from silence, travels through silence, and arrives in silence. Despite my words, the true disclosure of a message is silent except within the heart of the one who hears.

      • Avatar skyblueandblack
        skyblueandblack says:

        … can silence be ‘heard’ without the sound around it…?
        It is the space between the dots of the ellipsis…