They are the ones who light up the night. I am the one watching with awe. Ten gleaming fireflies with silent movements and angelic wings. Ten among the thousands who fill the night sky. Ten who can be seen if only for a second or two. Drifting and gliding, glinting in the darkness, bringing the night to life.

Their light a beacon. The only thing to be seen stirring amid the black. They flutter high up in the sky and flutter back down to the ground, swinging through the blades of grass. This is how they fly.

Let one get lost among the trees, nine glowing lights would be seen flashing as they dance. Fly, fly, fly waltzing through the night. They search.

When I am too tired and too restless to keep flying, when I am alone, just me myself, and I, then it is I who looks to the fireflies. Where there is no sound to be heard and not but one shadow to be seen. Ten lights that remain. Ten flapping their wings. Ten twinkling in the night.