For this we go out dark nights, searching, 

For the dimmest stars,

For signs of things unseen….

                                           Rebecca Elson

 

June, and fireflies appear.

 

They emerge from their underground state

in the garden’s murky summer heat,

larvae coiled like embryos,

glowing, even then, in their earthen womb.

Do you imagine them, waiting 

for the world to begin?

 

They surface.  Hot yellow points 

of light, flickering, then gone.

I watch and track

their calls to each other—

I’m here, this is mine, 

let’s meet, make our young.

Guessing the spot 

of their next drop or rise,

I think of the stars’ ancient grief 

slowly falling to mark

the earth’s beginning,

a time when awe was new—

 

In childhood’s hot dense nights

fireflies were stars on earth.

Round rubber-toed sneakers squishing

on muddy earth, I captured them,

mason jar in hand. Top screwed off,

I made soft grassy beds at the bottom.

Tracing the on-off switch 

of their bellies, I clamped 

the lid on, flashing a light

to look inside and marvel

at their spindly legs 

and hard blue-black wings,

watched them crawl blade over blade,

their glow dimming.

 

I only wanted to watch them live.

 

Light does not always 

beget light, want exacts its toll.

 

When do we see as kindred,

the night, the firefly, our hands?

In the garden’s murky heat,

in the dark shawl of night 

do not let them whisper

 

We are gone. There are no young.

 

But rather

 

Love us. We can live.

​

Donna DiCello, Psy.D. is a Sierra Club member and member of Climate Psychology Alliance-North America, Advocacy & Outreach Committee and CT Regional Subcommittee.

 

DiCello, D.H. (2025). To Begin and End in Light. In: The Nature of Our Times: Poems on America’s Lands, Waters, Wildlife, and Other Natural Wonders, edited by Luisa A. Igloria, et al, Poets for Science/Wick Poetry Center at Kent State University,  https://natureofourtimes.poetsforscience.org/tag/donna-h-dicello/.