Glow worms

We walked out in a dark, fern-fronded wood,
a place to try your tears and let the cool pine-fragranced air
purify your broken spirit like an incense for the soul.
The path snaked in the dark tangle of
jumbled shapes of trees and scrub,
rock and heather, crag and stream.

From the formless chaos of a thousand shadowed shapes
imagination spawned grotesque
menageries of fear that lapped against
the narrow passage of the path,
mirroring the misery
of condemnatory demands
that echoed still in whispered
accusations in your head.

Then a single point of pure illumination pierced the darkness;
calm and confident it shone as if a
fledgling star had fallen from a nest and crawled
with patience through the undergrowth
until it reached the sky again.

Tiny as it was it lit a hope beyond its size.
In all the jumbled chaos of our hearts
where words are misconstrued and motives all maligned,
the tiny light of love can still be beautiful indeed...

And though our self-esteem
feels like a beetle crawling in the night,
our worth is like a fledgeling star,
a diamond in the dark.


(c) A McN
 
 
When we needed them, the glow worms were there. Half a dozen or more illuminated our walk at a dark time when the misery of others had been heaped on us when we were least able to absorb it.