how to live

sometimes,
like yesterday,
in the midst of a dance
without lines and forms,
in the midst of a song
without a raga,
in the midst of a prayer
without names,
a dragonfly lies dead,
with her blue-gold wings
glistening and intact
upon a piece of earth,
speaking to a heart
that paused to listen
to the magic of a sign,
showing me how to live
as myself,
in this world between worlds.