Behind the Scene — This poem was sparked when I was on my balcony yesterday. I saw a dragonfly flying restlessly, heading somewhere — as if trying to reach "something" — which made me recollect a few memories.
There I ran for dragonfly
Once, I ran for its tail,
Its wings, and its spirit.
Once I stumbled
With you in an unknown world.
Your hands I saw,
Your eyes I saw,
Your lips I touched,
With every grace I will for.
Was it love?
Was it chase for sky?
Or just a mirror
Of what I lost inside,
When gods were young
And souls were light.
You whispered—
"Not every flight is born for heaven,
Some wings burn for remembrance."
And there, between dusk and dawn,
I learned:
The dragonfly was never mine—
It was me,
Running toward the wind
That could never stay.
You are dragonfly,
You are my chase,
You are my spirit.
How can it be broken,
Through and through,
When even the light bends
To remember you?
You hover in silence,
Between thought and breath,
Between what I was
And what I could be.
You — the shimmering dream,
Unreachable, yet mine.
You — the soul I lost
Before I knew I had one.
The sky turns,
The river forgets,
But your wings hum
In the marrow of my being.
And I — I remain the echo
Of a name whispered
By a vanishing god.
Have I broken your wings, my dragonfly?
Have I torn your spirit of fly?
Did my touch weigh you down,
Did my longing chain the wind?
I only wished to hold the light,
But I burned it with my need.
I only wished to love,
But I forgot — love cannot cage flight.
Now you rise beyond my reach,
And I stay below,
A pilgrim of absence,
Kneeling before your empty air.
Yet somewhere,
In the hush between suns,
I hear your flutter —
A memory made of forgiveness.
And I wonder:
Perhaps wings never break,
Only hearts do.
