On the Dock In the Summer
As the summer sunlight hits
the surface of the lake
I am transfixed by a million kaleidoscopic
sparkles making the water look like
a silver-blue satin sheet
complete
with thousands of winking diamonds
upon it strewn
like some cosmic boon
an ethereal treasure
a dazzling gift of the fickle Texas weather
causing my eyes to squint
from the overwhelming glint
though I try to keep them open
pupils coping
because the ambiance is magic
so brief, it's tragic
the lake seems like a living creature
a silent preacher
reflecting the wonder of God...
I start to nod
as I feel my skin bake
regardless of the claims they make
surely this must be healing
this wonderful feeling.
I breathe deeply and clear my throat
as I note
out of the corner of my eye
a brilliant green-blue dragonfly
wings beating at lightening speed
hovering over a stand of reeds
like some kind of prehistoric chopper
only...elegant and proper.
I marvel at the aerodynamics of
this minature flying myth
proving dragons still exsist
as it darts and then hangs suspended
irredescently splendid
as God intended
suddenly flying in reverse
(physics be cursed)
then warp-speed ahead and
my body feels like lead
as a thought crosses my drowsy mind
wondering if, at a certain time,
they were descended from dragons,
thinking of Bilbo Baggins...
or maybe they're aliens come to invade
not realizing
until they arrived the
mistake they'd made
on the matter or sizing
for, if they were larger, like
planes, if you will,
we'd all be transfixed
by their flying skill.
So maybe they're tiny, frustrated invaders
living like traitors.
I focus now on the whirr of it's wings
and the lullaby it sings
finally surrendering
and my last conscious thought
that my psyche reveals
is that
this must be
how happiness feels.
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