Clasped Hands

It was getting late, the sun had already dipped 
below the horizon while orange and pink clouds still 
gave a strange, beautiful and magical hue. 

She knew her father would be angry,  
She had promised to be home before it got dark. 
She reached the Great Field, in the dimming light.

She was running as the path became smooth and known. 
Almost home when suddenly something caught her eye. 
But when she stopped to look, there was nothing to see. 

She started running again, and again stopped, 
It was there, something in the corner of her eye. 
Again, but slower, she resumed her homeward path. 

Suddenly there was a bright flash of yellow-green, 
And then there was another, then one right in front.
She stopped and looked around.

It was as if all the stars had fallen and were dancing in the field.
Some twinkled on the grass, while others moved about. 
She carefully approaches the twinkling light.

It’s glowing on the top of a long blade of grass. 
Using both hands, she captured it, and peeked inside.
It tickled the palms of her hands, but it didn't burn. 

With clasped hands, she ran the rest of the way home. 
Her father was waiting, but before he could say 
Anything,  she yelled Father! Look what I have found!

Upon opening her hands, her father just laughed.
It’s a firefly! Go find a jar and get inside.
Dinner is ready and on the table.

David Gray