Grasshopper
A flash of color— a moment of beauty— as I leap into the air and spread wide my wings. I fly—I am seen— then I land on the path and return my folded wings to their hiding place beneath a dusty brown. I rest here— unseen by the eyes of those nearby— yet seen by the gaze of the One who called me into being, who painted my wings and called me to fly, but who also gives me rest.
About six years ago, I was walking on a dusty, rutted dirt path by a cornfield, when I was surprised by an unseen grasshopper that leapt into the air from the path just in front of my foot. I was doubly surprised to see a flash of color as it flew to safety, landing a few feet away. This continued to happen, over and over, as I walked along the path wondering what kind of grasshopper has black and yellow wings like a butterfly.* I started to look for them, to see if I could spot one before it took flight. I finally saw one—a dull, brown grasshopper, nearly blending in perfectly with the dusty path. I watched as it, too, took a brief, colorful flight to safety. Then, I continued my walk as this poem started to form in my mind.
I’ve always been one to prefer staying in the background, not standing out or drawing attention to myself. Over the years, I’ve come to learn that God calls me to fly and show my colors at times. But He also calls me to rest and be seen only by Him at times. Now, as I’m posting my writing here on Substack, I feel like I am that grasshopper in flight, showing off my colorful wings each time I post a piece of my writing. I hope you are enjoying my colorful flights.
*I looked it up later and found that it was either a Carolina or Boll’s Grasshopper (not the one pictured in the stock photo in this post).
I’m reminded of Mary Oliver‘s poem The Summer Day.