A simple thanks

My friend has a blog but unlike mine, which I think is really just documenting my dissatifications, art discoveries, rantings ... hers is poetry with a purpose. We are close but each of us so different when it comes to our blogs. Her post usually make me cry a little.  

How quiet and unquiet morning darkness can be. Almost another world. 

Soft rustles, a humming bug, a swift flash of movement in the canopy, then quiet again. I wonder to myself, how humans have learned to live indoors. 

I have the thought that humans have not had a full meal of connectedness with our real animal flesh since we closed our doors, turned on the lights and AC. 

Of course the stars are hypnotic. I look up and they flood my eyes with remembered and recognized constellations; ones I have memorized like road maps. 

I see an occasional falling star. 

To me just a brief zip of light, but maybe to them a blistering horrid death? I turn from that thought, I breath in the night air and I begin listing everything nice thats going on in my life, the smallest of nice things; 

I say a simple THANKS... 

Out of nowhere, one solitary firefly blinks, moving among the oak leaves above. 

It is alternately blinking and disappearing-only to show up a few feet away. I am surprised by this lone messenger. Usually they are all asleep by dawn.