Robbers and thieves,
One and all,
Pirates and felons who lurk in the weeds,
Did you hear the howl and the growl,
The groan
Of the earth, underfoot:
Wait
Then,
And listen.
Gold, diamonds, granite, oil, the black and the shining,
Treasures entrusted to the keep
Of the great
Dragon,
Yet you come and you steal,
And you carry away,
Leaving death in your wake.
With a toxic brew
Of soot,
You have tainted the wells of the living.
But you’re not alone,
And we all, companions of evil,
Turn our heads in denial,
And glance
Out the corners of our eyes,
“All we wish to say
Is this, it’s not our fault, not at all,
Not us, — no, not us, we never did anything,”
We only bought the coin that was stolen,
We only drank from the cup of lies,
We only went along for the ride,
Nothing more,
Nothing more, as we’ve mentioned before.”
And our laugh rings hollow
Among the dry reeds
Crackling in the wind gust,
Empty, by the river bed of dust.
When, from her long, cloud-held sleep,
The dragon stirs in her den,
Her wings will unfold and shake,
Flashing green and blue,
In the fire of her wrath
She will stand
Tall
On the holy mountain.
She will tower
Among the black rocks
And glower,
Gushing flames and the waters of the grimy deep,
To pour
Forth the ending of the broken wheel.
Boulders slip and slide
Headlong into the steep
And narrow
Gorge below.
After a while,
In the quiet of the moon,
When the saw-whet owl cries
His silver note on the pine-dewed branch,
In the dawn of the delicate petal,
A new land will awaken,
Where flocks
Of red-winged blackbirds dance,
Among the cottonwood’s whistling leaves.
Soon,
The swift-toed coyotes will sing,
Where the sage grows green after the storm,
Emerald lizards will trace
Elegant patterns in the sand,
And the awful dragon will curl up again,
Her crystal scales warm
In the sunlight, an endearing smile
On her dragonish face.
© Sharon St Joan, June 20, 2015
Photo: © Zuzana Randlova | Dreamstime.com