The belated summer sky is alive with a D r a g o n f l y ballet
Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal
A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath
Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity just this side the softening sunset backdrop
A synthesis of fluid motion – darting kinesis – swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending another summer's imminent curtain call;
reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation of passing seasons
Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments coming to know we cannot stop how life unfolds
The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...
— hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch
and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems in the treetops
Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018 .
Notes: Dragonflies can fly at 100 body-lengths per second, and three lengths per second backwards. Wiki Fossils of very large dragonfly ancestors in the Protodonata are found from 325 million years ago (Mya) in Upper Carboniferous rocks; these had wingspans up to about 750 mm (30 in). There are about 3000 extant species.
Untangle my body from yours Step number one Untangle my gaze to stop from speaking Step number two Untangle my dreams from reality with you Step number three Untangle my happy from your presence Step number four Untangle the future from our possibilities Step number five Untangle my person from yours Impossible
I miss him most when he is here, when he is close enough I could reach out and touch him. But only in places that are becoming routine. I reminisce back to a time when he would handle me like glass, when he'd run his fingers though my unwashed hair while I pretended to sleep. Our first embrace. When we kissed on the end of my bed, his skin slippery with angst. My clothes wrinkled, synched tight around my waist getting caught between myself and the covers. We were two brand new tension filled lovers.
The weekend drips slowly Regrouping, fixing her flowing blouse Removing moments of stupidity Told, goals will not wait upon the playing The world doubts her abilities She keeps a flower crown A sip in her soul and a push beyond control A gut on the verge of dying She smiles introducing her cries to the world If God could see, how proud would he be Taking shots as they sing Oh to have a presence built on a kingdom of storm clouds A goddess with out an understanding
"Action!" My director calls. As I rehearse for my school play, "Dear Evan Hansen, We've been way to out of touch!" I sing. "CUT! CUT! CUT!" I know that sound to well. "Non-satisfactory" "More Enthusiasm!" "Act knowing your experiences" All statements stab me, Like a knife. I try, I really do! But my experiences, Are the things holding me back. My friend's suicide attempt. My parent's divorce. My sister's depression. And my non-acceptance, only because of my presence!!!!! So don't judge me if I can't act, When I'm only taking your advice.
I do act at my school. And I am judged by my director. That line is from a song called "Sincerely Me" from the musical, "Dear Evan Hanson". It's my favorite musical!!!!
There's a peculiar kind of beauty that can only be experienced with the innate knowledge that the moment is fleeting and the most intense beauty can only be seen in the presence of both light and shadows. For it’s often in the loss of a thing that its worth to us becomes most precious and by letting it go with grace we can best savor its purest delights. Realizing that the pain runs so deep only because the beauty ran so deep and that without it having once touched us we wouldn't now know the emptiness of its loss, our grief will eventually turn to thankfulness that it ever touched us at all, and we will be left awed by the mystery of its haunting.
The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want I dwell in fields of green Led by His hand I may drink my fill From streams where few have been Though I may walk through death's shadowed vale His presence calms every fear Through the dark dangers He sets a feast Whenever my foe comes near His goodness and mercy shall follow me Throughout my days here on earth Then take me home where forever my eyes Shall behold all His glorious worth!
~~~ Sung to the tune of 'Cloud-Shadows' (music by James H. Rogers)
brush my eyelashes out from yours clasp the nape so not to wake you purged my blackheads from your pores i gently exfoliate you my hair is growing from your head your nails are shooting out my beds i file and i shape you
arms and legs unhinged from mine bares his weight so not to wake me closed a loop with both our spines said he wants to figure eight me i feel his heartbeat in my chest, and our skin blends with each caress his presence mediates me