To capture substance is a shallow thing; to chase dreams brings a higher yield of heart. A bird is not so precious in the hand as that part flying that we cannot hold. Beware of fireflies battling in a jar, marred by dense bodies that but transport light. The mystery of their flickering, needs the night to amplify the silences of them. Smoke does not answer to a name or place, but only summons wonder toward the grace elusiveness bestows on the rare child whose rhyming with the rose makes sterner sense than all the thorns that testify that man grasps flower secrets and can transmit them in cold clay words that point the light of day on a bouquet that has mist roots in earth.