I wrote this as an ode to my favorite mythical creatures-it may be my best poetical piece |
Walking in a dream I see, flying in the high sky above me, Leathery wings beating, Shiny scales glinting, I see multicolored shapes gliding, Swirling and swooping and winging Lots of dragons, their serpentine bodies gleaming. I hear their roars loud and deep. From above their cry pours as the open sky they reap. I smell the smoke from the fire of their jaws. At it I nearly choke, but I'm to filled with awe. I feel a gust around me ruffling my hair. The same gust touches me as the one they feel up there. It rustles my clothing completely amazing me at how this simple wind blowing can connect these creatures to me. I open my mouth and then I taste upon this billowing wind the flowery essence of this dream place as the dragon's above start to descend. Now I see them swooping and gliding to the ground. Inviting me to ride, they're stooping crouching ready all around. Climbing on, I feel the scales of a myth glinting in the sun as they shone its body beneath me strong and lithe with armor as smooth as river stone. Now I feel the wind rush past as we lift off into the sky as if a magic spell was cast and all there is is the dragons and I. I feel completely free in open sky the wind rushing past me. It's dizzying, being up so high, but nothing else could make me so happy. I hear myself whooping out loud with glee accompanied by the dragon's call as well as the rhythmic beat of leathery wings. The end of this I do wish to stall. I smell the atmosphere all clean and fresh. There's no pollution here this world is new and fresh. I smell once more the smoke from the fire as the dragons breaths with cries make a hazy choir. I taste the air dizzying my mind still clean and fair as we leave the smoke behind. I see the clouds whizzing quickly by and the dragons flying proud; me with my head held high. But now I see nothing. The world has gone black. My eyes are lidded. I fear that I am back. Now I feel beneath me my pillow under my head, my blankets are atop me. I'm lying on my bed. I hear the sing-song sound of early morning birds. I feel as though I've been found hearing sounds the dragons have not heard. I smell the scent of my burning incense so like the dragon's smoke I begin to reminisce. I taste the air and detect upon it pancakes cooking bacon sizzling. Now I open my eyes and am sad to see that the dream has ended. I'm back in reality. |