Fairies, they lite upon the ripples

And race back skyward

Blue to blue,

Small specks of air.

"they're beautiful" I say,

As we sit on the striated rocks,

Rocks never smoothed despite the waves,

Scraping our winter-pale hands.

"They are", you agree,

And we watch them

Scoop sparkles from sun painted water,

Laying shadows on our rapt faces.

They're children of hope.

Sitting side by side

We watch their song,

Longing, someday, to sing it.