It’s been a great summer for dragonflies. Hot, humid, lots of rain. I’ve seen them everywhere. In my yard, escorting my car to work or the grocery store, hovering over every puddle after a rain shower.

The last time we had so many dragonflies was a summer when I was going through a very profound change in my life, so it’s appropriate that they are here this year, though I haven’t figured out yet if they are helpers or just harbingers of impending change.

Yesterday as I was walking my dog and paused to admire them, I had a…vision? thought? memory?…of myself with dragonfly wings. It made me think about how we talk about our kids “spreading their wings”. And that made me wonder…what happens to our wings? As a parent, I always wanted to be within easy reach of my kids. If their wings weren’t spread yet, then I must have voluntarily folded mine.

Now that my children have spread their wings to begin chasing their dreams, is there any reason I shouldn’t spread mine? Is there anything keeping me earthbound now?

Do old wings still work?

Old Wings
By Michelle Garren-Flye 

I am naught but sparkling wings
as I climb into the sky
to follow the paths of kings.

There’s no such thing as strings
when you are up so high
and you’re naught but sparkling wings.

Rising sun brings awakenings
as I gain height and fly
along the paths of kings.

No more time for earthbound things
or worries it’ll go awry;
I’m naught but sparkling wings.

No regrets, apologies or playthings
allowed—just say goodbye—
and soar to the paths of kings.

Death may wait but it’s lost its stings.
I’m climbing now, you can’t hear me cry;
I’m naught but sparkling wings. 
You'll find me on the paths of kings.