Photography poetry Prose

Dreamin’ Big

*Sentiments from a Young Dragonfly most-likely experiencing Day One as a flier

What happened? What do I do–now–that my life cycle has suddenly changed on me? I was just fine in that comfy pond. It was perfect there. All alone I am with these large, flappy, fragile wings that obviously get me places as soon as I learn how to steer ’em. I’ll just sit a while on these sun-kissed leaves. They sure are slick and warm. That golden glow feels just right. Can’t close my big ol’ eyes though. This place is uncharted, mysterious, and so new to me. What do I do? Can’t sit too long. I hear echoing tweets from the river birch branches. I see larger, multi-colored, sparkling-winged swoopers like me doing air dances–in dip-dive travels through June’s humid air. Here. There. Swoop high. Swoop low. There they go. They do it so smoothly. I guess I’ll learn. Eventually. Right now I’ll lounge on these leaves warmed by summer sun and dream my big dreams. This is the best place to hang out since my hangin’-out-in-the-pond days. Sure hope I can learn it. Sure hope I learn how to fly like the big swoopers passing by. See that big sky? Look for me. One. Day. I. Will. Be. Cruising. Way up high. I will. I will fly.



6 replies on “Dreamin’ Big”

Hello Maryse,

A few minutes ago I finished reading your beautiful writing about your mom. It hushes my spirit as I understand the depth of such Mother Love. My sweet mother, (oh, so dear to her seven & I’m her seventh), is 93 years old. She is so precious to us. I will reply to your poem soon. Take care. Nice to read your work again.



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