On a tar black night,
A firefly dances drunkenly overhead.
An only sun in endless darkness,
It flies haphazardly into bushes.
Seemingly unaware of its new radiance,
It hovers amongst the beech leaves,
Throwing greens, reds and yellows,
Upon the blackness.
Imagination sees planets awoken into daylight,
From the brightly lit to the far off wax of Neptune,
A family bound in light.
Then off flies the fire
And the magic of existence is gone.