Tonight I sit on the broken boulders on the banks of the Mountain river to say hello to my friends the Fire Flies I have long neglected in my life.
They have given me wonder on many nights as I starred and pondered upon their mysterious brilliance.
Thoughts not of their biology or a reason why they are the way they are.
They light the summer nights as if a mountaintop lighthouse guiding my path of years long past.
I say hello like a lost friend after hours caught waiting at the airport terminal.
I embrace them without touching and reflect on my life, my passions, my loves, and the mystery that encompasses me.
I stare into their eyes as they wink at me. Dusk becomes twilight.
I dream of hikes I haven’t completed, roads I still must travel, miles to complete, long legged women that have yet to wrap around my waist.
I gaze, write, and discover what it is I hope to get out of another lost mountain side Summer.
I realize tonight that the mystery of the night known as the Fire Fly is the partner in crime to hot sweaty days of summer.
I am on my last pages of this mole skin as I speak softly to my girl as she sits on the rock next to me.
I create, write, and smell her loveliness in my gut.
We are years apart.
Destiny still undiscovered,
And a fantasy of our life yet to be conquered.
I have but one wish on the river side bar summer night.
It is to only leave the words unspoken.
It is to leave our worries behind.
It is to discover the new smells that summer brings.
It is to have this kiss that will last forever.
It is a childlike admiration for the glimmer of twilight in our eyes.
I hesitate to say I love you.
I am amazed by you.
I adore your freckles, your wavy hair, and that birthmark which is unmentionable.
I know you can see the weakness in my face,
And read those three words somehow on the surface of my eyes and the way my lips fight the urge to say “more please”
I’m a sentimental idiot at times,
I blame it on the heat of the days.
North Carolina destinations, feet laying in the river, and mixed iced drinks make our worries melt away.
I hold your hand and we stare together at the magic of the night.
The music playing in the background a cliche, but we sing along anyway.
A kiss on the cheek raises your eye, as I put a hand on your thigh.
You squeeze deep and I thank the gods for Summer moments as these.
I abuse the night and my gifts while soaking up the buzz from the river flowing and the cold drink going down my throat.
I am forever a witness.
My Fire flies become my muse.
I fear when the season changes and they pack up and leave the year behind on cooler autumn mornings.
I replace them with changing color of leaves and later regret I did not give them enough campfire dwellings.
I am older and wiser.
I never catch my mystery muse in some bottle.
I leave them for the nights of romantic wonder and forget them in dreams of ocean wave surrender.
To my women, work, solipsistic views, and life altogether, tonight I leave them behind. I gaze with one eye on you, and with the other at the Firefly Splendor.