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.