The Fireflies Danced

In the late of autumn you noticed me and I trusted for what seemed to be the first time. And the night found us talking alone, the stars surveying us, smiling on our innocence as the evening's chill gave us leave to be closer. But the winter brought change and with the snow came solitude. You were far from me. And days passed. And springtime spread before me. And summer found me busy, but watching you from the corner of my eye, hoping you saw me too, holding my breath in anticipation. But no change came. And though, I longed to dance with you across the fields, bathed in moonlight, you were out of reach... and the fireflies danced instead. So, fall approached and the soft warm sunlight caught in the changing leaves, but the coolness in the air did not draw us together again. No, it only reminded me of our distance. So, I learned to admire this beauty without you, but still I watched you from afar. Yet, winter passed, spring faded, and summer stretched. And the fireflies danced again. Autumn fell, winter slipped, and spring unwound. And the fireflies danced again. And those months filled themselves with friends and laughter and lessons and tears, but still I waited for you. And the fireflies danced again. So, slowly I relinquished certain things: ideals and daydreams, but not hope. And the sun still cast a warm glow on the leaves and the wind continued to remind me of you and spring never ceased to be itself. And in their time, the fireflies danced again. And I laughed deeper and loved more freely and I discovered that even when I put it all on the line, I really couldn't lose it all. Somehow, I always walked away with something. And that year I marveled at those blinking, winged lights and I learned who I was and what it meant most to be me and I let people in and I allowed myself to dream dreams without you, to let you go. And finally, those airy lights, those firefly friends of mine, brought back the fondest memories... and at last I danced with them.