—by Mendy Knott
all these you are called, my Dragonfly,
naming your transformation
from water to air and shadow to light.
Life, as life does, begins submerged,
surrounded by water deep beneath pools
where you grew, a nymph, unseen for years.
On the day you reached maturity
you lay vulnerable in the sun,
drying your transparent wings
which like your heart, once opened,
never would be closed again.
Wings as perfect prisms breaking light into
electric blues and greens and peridot,
such colors as I’ve seldom seen.
Dragonfly, surely you have flown through time
from a land of mystery and magic;
where dragons breathed their fire until castles fell
and knights bent knees before their ladies
shimmering in crystalline.
These visions are reflected
in Dragonfly’s ten thousand lenses;
who can see the whole world ’round
and watch me from above
then observe me from below–
and from every direction that she looks
admire and adore me.
Tell me, how can this be so?
Skipping along an aqua plane
or hovering in the sun;
a brief landing on a fisher’s pole
as you wing messages from nature
to listening humans here below.
The wind through grasses whispers favors.
The light, it speaks your language, too.
The waters–lake, pond, and sea–must be
read like Braille in skimming touch
before Wandering Glider comes home to me.
You may hide behind gray clouds
or alight among the mists, but still
I know you’re never far from sight.
The minute that you touch my hand
I find my transformation, too, complete,
and together we take flight.
Our bodies spoon a comma
when we lift as one into the sun
to drop atop the tallest tree.
Of sound or smell we have no need
as cradled in Catawba leaves,
there’s no separating you from me
while we are in the moment,
Mendy Knott Feb.7, 2013
(Photo by Bahman Farzad)