Poetry by Water

Motionless on the lotus bud, a red dragonfly rested its wings. Perfect stillness. I clicked my shutter five times, and still it did not move. Perhaps it was entranced by the shimmering of the water’s surface; or perhaps its wings, exhausted from flight, had not yet recovered; or could it have been waiting for the clouds to part to reveal a ray of sunlight? In any event, this king of flight contentedly perched on the peach-colored bud, having transformed it into a fitting throne.

It was July 15, 1991; Tokyo’s rainy season had yet to end. Under a thinly clouded sky, three planters containing lotus plants lined the edge of a small pond in a corner of the grounds of the Soka Gakkai headquarters. The broad lotus leaves completely hid the planters from view. I drew a little closer. The lotus leaves with their thick veins were somehow reminiscent of an insect’s wings. On the other hand, the transparent wings of the dragonfly, with their fine network of veins, looked somehow like leaves.

A single essence called life, at one instance, will emerge as a green plant or tree that rustles in the breeze, at another as an insect whose wings slice the air. But now these two expressions of the same life force seemed to merge again as one. No artwork could hope to capture the mysterious beauty of this creative form. It was a lesson in how all things are connected. 

When I was a boy, dragonflies were my friends. In the 1930s, Tokyo still had many green woods and fields. In my hometown of Ota, too, the waters of the Tama River ran deep, and along its banks one could enjoy an expansive stillness. Red dragonflies glided about, and in the evenings, fireflies danced. On summer vacation mornings, I would stride with friends along dew-covered paths through the rice fields, chasing dragonflies. Soon thunderheads would rise in the distance, and the smell of the grass in the burning heat would be almost stifling. …

Human beings date back only several million years. Among the community of life on earth, dragonflies are by far our seniors. For 300 million years, their lineage has been passed down perfectly and without interruption from parent to offspring, parent to offspring.