TO THE DRAGONS, REBORN
They say the flame wrought winds are dead;
Ethereal dancing, jeweled wings – no more.
Monolithic rationality is the head.
Noble dreams and works – shattered, torn.
Their world was theirs – never doubt.
But the magic and power faded away,
When the light gave way to spiritual drought
and Oppenheimer replaced Morganna Le Fay.
But in some strange souls they found a home:
Those inspired, lost, exiled castaways.
Music and verse and The Craft are the bones
Of these long lost archetypes of elder days.
And it takes a mere seed to create an oak,
and music and light, rain and mirth,
bridging land and sky with it’s growth;
fulfilling the call to renew the Earth.
So nurture these dragons who live within you-
The Burning has ended and they may go free.
Let them grow so that their work may continue.
An it harm none, do what ye will
