The Dragonfly

Resting on my kitchen windowsill amid the small pieces of pottery
sits a beautiful brown dragonfly who drowned last summer in our pool,
barely having broken the cold water spanning around him like a bright invisible net.

It was an exceptionally hot day, the sun blinding above, insects searching
in the air and on the ground for some way to quench their thirst.
I waded into the pool, wiping the sweat from my face, anticipating the cool
glow of a welcome swim, when I noticed the big dragonfly nearby seemingly at rest.

I quickly realized the insect was dead, its marvelous wings weighed and silent.
I felt a sadness at the loss of this intriguing wonder of aerodynamic engineering,
victim of our pool's cold water, a beautiful trap with no escape once entry was found.
The dragonfly's big eyes having seen things I could only dream about, there high in the skies.

So often our strength is not enough, when faced with an obstacle we cannot comprehend,
and if a helping hand is not around to save us in time, our dreams and energy are drowned
and left dead, erased, gone for all time.

I keep the dragonfly on my bright orange sill, as a reminder to try to always be kind.
No matter the bravado of those around us, near or far, we do not know how close they
might be to drown unless we lend a helping hand, by word or deed, to make sure
their dreams are not downed in mid flight, with no one around to notice in time.

I could not save the dragonfly that day, and some of all of our dreams meet the same fate,
but it is worth the effort to pay attention to all the people in our lives, and to be aware
that we matter, in small ways and great, to give a lift to the wings our souls all yearn to find. 


Trudi Ralston.
February 11th, 2016.