Make your own free website on Tripod.com
E-Mail Moonwillow

 
 
The Dragon's Telling
 

Mmmm……well, who sees me; who really sees me now?
Where do I start with my telling?
Do you, my friend know the location of my secret lair?
Are you strong enough to seek me out?
Do you have the desire and passion to partake of a journey into a realm not of your own?
Dare you take the quest perilous into my world, my domain?
Can you cross the Divide?
Only the creatures that daily ride upon the cold currents of air know the truth;
Have knowledge of my last refuge.
And the nightriders, they know; and she knows.
She came and sought us out, shape shifting into a creature of the air, she saw us.
She journeyed into the dark underworld realms where we still stand proud.
But this realm, our realm is with you still, as it always was.
It is you though, who fail to see and who constantly deny us.
But we are with you now, still in your lives.
We are a part of your dreams, dwelling on the very edge of your nightmares and fears.
Still breathing the soul fires you so desire, the fire you lost in ages long gone.
All knew the sight then.
We fought together; we were gallant beside you,
We befriended you.
And we gave you power and comfort and a belief in magic and made you proud.
We guarded the thirteen treasures of the land; we were great and tested you time and time again.
Those of you, those brave, humble knights of courage,
Boldly sought us out and knew our secrets yet kept silent.
You, the knights of truth found the answers to the quest that only we then held.
Many times we died a painful death in battle,
Our souls pierced by the lances of a new age.
And in time as the Walkers of the Old Crooked Path were overpowered in the bright wake of a new man-made saviour, we reluctantly faded from your realm.
And as blood was spilled in the name of this new religion; this illusion of light,
You were all blinded.

So in time all that was a part of the mystery faded was thus swept aside.
All who resisted were bound and charged as heretics, sorcerers and witches.
So we too reluctantly gave up this realm.
Some of us curled up within our places of power in the landscape and waited as the centuries rolled by.
Some of us have died, slumbered yet returned again and again over the centuries,
As more of you sought us out with a needing to know,
To prove the yearning of your inner souls.
We still do steadfastly guard the ancient secrets of this mighty land.
We still honour the truths that have long faded from your human memories.
Your battles raged, your own human blood you relentlessly wasted on many a mournful battlefield.
All in the name of that golden, shining savour who gazed mesmerizingly out of the pages of many a diligently crafted manuscript.
Yet some of us did continue to remain, hidden from view in a world gone wrong.
Waiting, as guardians at the doors of the underworld,
And safely out of site on the icy rooftops at the edge of the world,
Where only the creatures of the air served as companions.
Till she came that is; till she saw us.
We knew she was coming; we instinctively know when a soul will travel into our realm.
We know and we wait.
We are bemused by the surprise, when your race finds the sight,
When our eyes meet yours, deep contact, deep recognition.
Another fire re-lit; another truth at last revealed.
The fires of the underworld still light up the myriad scales on our ancient horny backs
And the icy sunlight at the top of the world still glistens off the tips of our outstretched wings.
And those of you who know, those of you who see,
Those who have eyes that take the risk to open and enter our world
And ears that listen to the secrets written on the winds,
Those whose souls yearn to soar once more.
For all of you, we wait.
For all of you we will never desert this land.
For we are here still,
We never went away.

Only those who have taken the risk to enter our realm can repeat this tale;
My tale; my telling.
One by one I know you will come,
Your souls are re-awakening;
Are connecting to the fire.
My Telling will be myth no more when enough of you make the journey.
We await The Return,
Occasionally we stretch; we yawn and sniff the air.
Then close our eyes and coil up soundly, nose tucked neatly under tail.
The time is not yet come.
We still need to guard our treasures;
The ancient treasure of this fine kingdom.
My Telling is now done.
My time to slumber is nigh
Another century – who knows?
Who knows when you will re-awaken?
Apart that is, for those of you who still dare to journey long and deep on the backs of your souls into the realms of the forbidden.

Darkwillow Samhain 2006

(Updated July 2009)