The Maple Leaf & the Firefly

Dear Santa, for Christmas I ask for two little things. 

Firstly, I’d like a fallen, fragile maple leaf

To warm itself underneath my christmas, holly wreath.

Secondly, I’d like a firefly,

That has surrendered to December’s bitter, winter sky.

When the little leaf is dry and no longer wilts,

I will wrap the firefly within its merigold quilts.

Together they will sleep next to a burning flame, 

When come New Year, strength and courage they shall reclaim. 

***

Time rolls on and Spring arrives,

And the maple leaf withers, whilst the firefly thrives.

I know it is time to let the little leaf go, 

Now that the ground is no longer blanketed by snow.

She pirouettes out of the timber-framed house,

Waving beneath to a shy meadow mouse.

Back inside, the firefly weeps, 

For his friend and their winter, swaddled sleeps.

Night after night, his light does fade,

Whilst he watches the sun set over fields of jade.

I recognise his loss, and wish him peace,

So the next night, I mourn his timely release.

He shakes my hand and bumbles into the night,

Before turning on his little light.

From afar he brings light into my soul,

That now and again is weighed down with burdens, as heavy as coal.

He twinkles at me every now and then,  

Promising that next christmas he will visit me once again.

***

Now Santa, I will tell you why I asked for these two little things,

It was because I wanted to see the unknowing joy that ephemerality brings.