as I minded my own business and watered
the garden. The iridescent blues brightened
the day and shed a sudden lustre that colored
my world. Blessings come that way on the wing,
gazing upon you with gloss of heaven's hue,
a momentary glimpse of God darting about,
to look upon creation.
I don't usually comment on my poems. Better to leave the reader with his or her own impression instead of mucking it up with mine. But I suppose there are times when God takes a trip into the world and looks upon. When God does that--isn't that the time that world is colored in a new way for us. Isn't that the heart of a blessing? the momentary recognition before it flies away?
The Dragonfly
By Louise Bogan
You are made of almost nothing
But of enough
To be great eyes
And diaphanous double vans;
To be ceaseless movement,
Unending hunger
Grappling love.
Link between water and air,
Earth repels you.
Light touches you only to shift into iridescence
Upon your body and wings.
Twice-born, predator,
You split into the heat.
Swift beyond calculation or capture
You dart into the shadow
Which consumes you.
You rocket into the day.
But at last, when the wind flattens the grasses,
For you, the design and purpose stop.
And you fall
With the other husks of summer.
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