13: There are fireflies in the tree

There are fireflies in the tree.

The dusk is falling fast.

You are loved and you are free.

There’s a song longing to be

sung, as evenings glow has passed.

There are fireflies in the tree.

In the darkening can you see

how the tiny lights are vast?

You are loved and you are free.

What if death is freedom’s key,

in each second flying past?

There are fireflies in the tree.

We are dead and we can see

We were always home; at last

You are loved and you are free.

I am you and you are me

All the world is holy mass

There are fireflies in the tree.

You are loved and you are free.