Flowers and Fireflies
I walked by many times, could see the flowers in the windows— the many flowers created for Alice by her community in Easton.
Then one Saturday night the doors were open. Music soared through the rooms, flowers everywhere on the walls: oil, pastels, mosaics, collage— so many pieces of art created for a friend.
I went into the garden where tree branches formed a giant umbrella, creating an intimate space for the words to come.
Oh, the words were like fireflies dancing across the room, through the branches to the sky, each of us capturing them in the jars of our hearts.
When I was a child, I was fascinated by fireflies in the meadow, capturing them in a jar, closing the lid but eventually letting them go.
When I return to the streets of Easton, just like those fireflies of my youth, I open the jar of my heart and let them go free.
I live the words that were spoken— words of love, of life, of friendship, of determination, of nature, of creativity.
But most of all, words of connection. That is what Alice’s life was about. It is the word everyone used, the word that describes the space: Connection.
So, I take all the words I heard that night, take them to the streets, release them from my heart into the world— into the world to create connection and community.
In honor of Alice—her legacy.