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firefly in the storm

this is the rainiest june in my memory

but i’m not one to complain

after the first storm had abated

i looked out the window

and saw a firefly flitting by

such a very small creature

with a life of few days

but what did that matter?

it shone brilliantly despite its brevity

who am i to fret about trifles in eternity’s face?

every second a candle is lit

then another is snuffed out

lilies bloomed today are tomorrow consigned to fire

if a firefly can blaze in the face of the storm

should not i, a child of light, shine in the darkness?

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