Dragonfly wings.

Perhaps to be but a whisper on the soft clouds of forever, travelling the stars of existence through a universe of darkness. Perhaps that is to be alive. The echo of intention that vibrates on an unseen frequency dancing like the dragonfly, skipping across airwaves, diving through screams of humanity. Wings fluttering, perfect rhythm to a beat heard only by them, do they sing to the heavens? Do their wings play the instrument of pure music at a core essence level? If the worlds axis tilted and we dived through the bleakness of reality into a parallel universe of turquoise skies and flavored seas would the dragonfly still have her agility? Would dandelions still grant wishes? Would daisies still lay littered across playing fields begging to become crowns and necklaces in the dancing rays of a setting sun? and would night truly come as each day ended with the fading of the eternal sun.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016