As kids, we’d truly believe the blown seeds of a dandelion would go far to a place where wishes would be granted. And so the summer days would be full of wishes gliding in the air. It used to be a magical time – the lazy summer days to dream and wish and wait for it to come true. Those times, when dandelions were the messengers for wishes…
TO FLY in the air To pluck at the stars To have a candy palace Why, nothing seemed bizarre! Wishes wishes, oh so many Blow the dandelion, and ask for any
A HANDFUL of diamonds Prince charming on a stallion Be sought after My charm be my medallion
WISHES wishes, oh so many Blow the dandelion, and ask for any! Not smart but be wise A true friend or a few
BE A kid again, that Innocence like dew Wishes wishes, not too many Blow the dandelion, hoping for an epiphany!
This is the story of a water beetle who lived with her friends deep down in an obscure lily pond. Their life in the soft pond mud was content and uneventful, away from the direct sun and any disturbances far above. However, every once in a while, some beetle would climb up a lily stalk making its way up, up and away. Never to return. This would make all of them sad, wary and fearful.
One beautiful summer morning the sky above was still rosy, when down below, this one beetle got restless. Boredom and curiosity got the better of her and she started her climb up one firm lily stem. She was determined find out what lay beyond and to come back and share her findings with her friends below. The climb was long and steep, and she finally broke through the surface of water into a sea of gleaming lilies ubiquitous in the gorgeous sunlit pond. She was fascinated beyond her wits, but the long climb had tired her out. She lay on the lily pad in the blanket of the warming sun, soon falling into a deep sleep. She slept long, only to be shocked once she woke up. Her body had transformed during the long nap; she now had a long electric blue tail and lustrous wings, perfect for flying. The beetle was transformed into a brilliant dragonfly! She took her first flight above the pond and the lilies, rising and swooping and soaring back up again. A whole new world had opened up for her, a way superior life than that the one she had known all her life. More like a fantasy beyond her wildest imagination. Now back on on lily pad for a little respite, she remembered her life under water, and felt a pang of sympathy for her friends. In a gush of emotion to tell them all about this new world, she headed to get under water only to jolt back. Her new body was no more for the water.
A realization came upon the beetle that even if she went, her friends wouldn’t recognize her, nor believe this “absurd” tale. That they would realize it only when each one takes that step and experiences it for themselves. Poignant, but peaceful, the beetle took an deep breath and darted into the dazzling sunlight towards her glorious new life, now as a radiant Dragonfly!
In the face death, the harshest but most certain reality of life, this story assuages us that our loved one might just not cease to exist. They might just have found a glorious world beyond our knowledge. It gives us reassurance. It gives us hope.
In the face of life and the living, when I died many tiny deaths in face of frustration and failure and hopelessness and depression, it empowered me to go beyond the unpleasant and the dark. It urges to go past any complacency of a certain “just OK” life-situation encouraging for an exploration of a more meaningful and fulfilling life. It gives the hope of a possibility of something splendid, only if one resolves to break through.
LUMINOUS sapphire skies
Woolgathering in glee
Bubbles of fantasy…
IN amber fairy dust
Blooms n’ buzzing bees
Racing to the horizon
The rolling emerald fields
THIS wanderlust I love
Nothing more I seek
All I ask, the heaven above
And the road below me…
Road Trip. 2016. To Mackinac Island. Some iPhone pictures of the road, taken on the road. No filter or enhancing was needed for the stunning blues and greens.
On reaching the Mackinaw City, we took a ferry to the Mackinac Island all bikes no motor vehicles.
Ever since I read it the first time in high school, R.L. Stevenson’s The Vagabond stayed with as a beautiful memory appealing my ‘wanderer self’. I LOVE this poem. I cant help but reproduce it here and see if you feel it speak to your soul as it did to mine.