The Dragonfly ~ By, Parvaneh Eshghi

InkBlood contest_winner

This beautiful frame of “Poised” by Rochana Deb, is on its way to you! 

Dragonfly frame_low

The Dragonfly

I remember so vaguely,

Your caramel skin,

Like mine,

Delicate hands with elegant fingers,

Showing me,

Showing me so many things,

Crouched down,

To compensate your tall frame,

With my littleness…

Leaves,

Branches,

Smooth rocks,

Nature in your warm hands,

Generously transferred,

To my inexperienced clumsy ones,

You brought the world,

Close to me,

Into the frame of my small life…

But the most etched in my memory,

Is the day you held,

With delicacy,

A pulsating,

Vibrating,

Vivid dragonfly,

Teetering on your finger,

Holding it with a fragility,

That I will cherish forever,

Your caramel skin heightened,

Through the transparent, multi-coloured wings,

Taking on the hues of nature,

Steady elegant hand,

Even calmer under her vibrations,

Holding,

Balancing,

A sparkling fluttering heartbeat,

With such care…

(I adored you so back then)

I have not seen you since,

But I love you,

For your transparency,

And fragility,

Your embodiment of nature,

And for having held my teetering heart,

Balancing,

So delicately,

With such care…

By Parvaneh Eshghi

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A complete exercise in poetic simplicity and poise, the rendition of a memoir, in such gentle articulation; every word falls upon the reader like a raindrop. An ode, a tribute, a panegyric  so deeply felt has been penned down here effortlessly it seems; while every word seems to flow with grace, painting a visual so lucid yet so beautiful.

The beginning holds a perfect introduction to our subject here “the dragonfly”, which has been brought in with subtlety and care enough, to not overplay its presence. The semblance and the relationships between the poet’s mother and Mother Nature as well as the dragonfly and the poet’s heart have an endearing character to them and add warmth to the poem.

The poem holds together two subjects of deep longing and love by the string of a memory; the memory of a dragonfly and the poets reflection of a moment lost in time, but preserved in thought, and now, ink.

~ InkBlood, Midnight Poets Quest – May 2013

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