10/06/2026
The Dragonfly Remembers
Dragonfly,
you arrived without a sound,
only the shimmer
of sunlight
resting upon your wings.
The old ones say
there are beings
who carry no burden of yesterday,
yet remember
every river
the Earth has ever dreamed.
Perhaps
you are one of them.
You hover
between water and sky,
between what is spoken
and what the heart
has always known.
The lake does not fear you.
It opens,
like an elder opening
both hands
to greet a grandchild.
I watch you
dance above the reeds,
your silver wings
catching the breath
of Grandmother Moon.
You touch the water
without breaking it.
You leave
without leaving.
Teach me
that kind of walking.
The people once knew
how to step upon the world
as softly
as moss grows upon stone,
taking only songs,
leaving only gratitude.
Dragonfly,
little keeper
of changing light,
you remind me
that strength
is not always thunder.
Sometimes
it is the courage
to become
something entirely new,
while carrying
the same ancient spirit.
When twilight gathers
its blue blanket,
I know
the ancestors
still send quiet messengers
not always eagles,
not always wolves,
but sometimes
a single dragonfly,
whose transparent wings
hold enough sky
to guide
a wandering soul
back home.
🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn
