Sunday, June 18, 2006

Still a Mystery

Friends light up our lives in much the same way that fireflies light up the night with bits of joy in unexpected places. This unexpected gift of beauty came in my email box from a friend today. She is like the fireflies she writes about.
−me strauss Letting me be

Still a Mystery
Going on three years
and they’re still a mystery
lights shining in dusks’ deepest shadows
playing tricks on my eyes

sheer delight
a summer’s night

joy and magic
pierce days’ cares
with gratuitous sparks
of spirit-life.

Jhopman
6/18/06

6 comments:

Mama Mouse said...

Exquisite!! I feel the same about those wondrous pieces of spirit life! I heard of them all my life as my mother grew up with them in southern Ohio. But in Michigan, where I was raised, we didn't see them.

When we moved to Columbus, OH about 5 years ago I was introduced to them and have been enchanted ever since. What a lovely piece of poetry and a very special gift.

ME Strauss said...

Hi Mama,
I agree with you completely. Those little lights are wonders. Aren't they. They've inspired many dreams for me. They are enchanting . . .

The poet was quite surprised I might want to share her poetry. She thought perhaps I had nothing to write about.

I'm so glad you found see the beauty in it that I did, so that now she will know why I wanted to publish it. :)
Liz

Mama Mouse said...

I was so inspired by this that I wrote a piece myself about fireflies ... with proper credit given to my inspiration!

Check it out, I think you'll like it.

ME Strauss said...

I will do that. I've been working all day. A change like some fireflies will do me good. :P

Dawn said...

What an honor to see my poem here and to know that it touched memories in you, Mama Mouse.
Liz, I've been reading your blog since Day One, but today I had a new insight into what really happens here, and why you write in the first place.

ME Strauss said...

Hi Dawn,
It is the exchange of it, the putting yourself out there and the receiving back. It's like the sign I have in my office.

All forms of poetry (writing) are prayer.