Fisherman and canoe on a hot, sunny day.

His eye catches sight of water bugs at play.

A swarm of water beetles underwater scurrying,

Clambering, careening, scampering, hurrying.

Look! One breaks the surface, free of the water line,

And climbs up the canoe, and stops atop to recline.

Has he fallen asleep under the hot, noonday sun?

(I would if I could. I’m a terrible fisherman).

After hours pass by, the fisherman sees him wiggle.

The water beetle’s shell, cracked open with a wriggle.

And out of that tomb, a buzzing battle cry!

Brightly colored wings! A beautiful dragonfly!

He flies up to my eyes, and hovers like a drone.

Such beauty and colors belie his hardened throne.

Down to water level he sneaks below a glance.

His cousins in prison tombed, locked in a watery trance.

This dragonfly is free! He sees beauty all around.

And he adds to it, as new life makes its rounds.

What a metaphor is he! A water beetle once was I,

But found new life in Christ, and beauty’s flying free!