Whispers of the Wind

Of dragonflies and monarchs…

Sighing with the whispers of the wind, I look to the horizon and wonder what tomorrow will bring.

The breeze answers me in a language from antiquity, spreading her wings of clouds and wondering why I need to know about anything beyond this moment.

In the blink between time, my mind stops long enough just to watch a monarch dip low over the Queen Anne’s lace, her skirts ablaze in the fierce afternoon sun.

A dragonfly dances in the air, hovering, peering, into the window, courting his own reflection in the plane of glass.

Does he know that it’s not really an “other” that he sees?

I suspect he understands this in the way that dragonflies do.

The only true thing, for him, and for the butterfly, whose life flies by so briefly, is the certainty that they are part of the web, if only for a moment — this moment.

Breathe it in, the wind says.

For this moment will never happen again.

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies). Erika is also an editor for Dharma Talk.

Thank you for reading. You might also enjoy:

Thank you to benjamin weinberg for the “horizon” prompt (part of the “never-ending poem circulating on medium):

I’d like to suggest the prompt “dragonfly.” If you’d like to join in, just tag me so that I see your lovely piece. I’m tagging a few of you, in case you’d like to play.

LB, Sylvia Clare MSc. Psychol, Samantha Lazar, Jennie Justice, Simran Kankas, Randy Shingler, Anna Rozwadowska, Ashwini Dodani, Anu Anniah, Marilyn Flower, Christina M. Ward, Kat of Magik

Poem and photo ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.