It’s in the green glimmer
of a field full of fireflies.
It’s in the flash of lightning
that makes you jump out of your skin.
It’s in the tongues of flame
licking logs in a bonfire
releasing bursts of burning sunshine
from the flesh of the wood.
It’s in the middle of the dance
in that moment between heartbeats
when both of your feet are in the air
and you feel lighter than a feather.
I feel the blood of the Fae
flowing through my veins
sending me whirling, twirling
hurling myself from a moving train
only to land in a forest clearing
glowing with silver light
on a moonless night.
This may sound like a faery tale
but every word of it is real
more real than the cold iron glow
of a thousand neon corporate logos
blotting out the moonlight.
If you don’t believe in faeries
come away with me
to feel the full moon
floating through the mist of a midnight meadow.
Come away with me
to dance in an empty parking lot
our feet kissing away the blankness of blacktop
filling it with the echo of fluttering footsteps
transmuting the neon light
into electric moonshine.
But don’t take my word for it.
Take three backward steps
twirl yourself dizzy
and say three times
that you believe in faeries.
When the next moon rises
you’ll see for yourself what I mean.