I sat clinging to the cold crag,
most the way up the dark mountain,
a sparkle shows at the edge of sight,
moonlight on the wings of the white dragon.
I grabbed and clawed the rough surface
up the next ledge, up the next plateau,
closer glides the glittered reptile,
I rested, watching the circling shiny dragon.
I pushed and I pulled, reaching for the top
wrestling, struggling, needing to reach that
ultimate goal
the dragon flaps his giant wings,
making great waves of wind,
huge white wings, turning mountain top,
half to day from night.
I placed my bruised and bloodied hand
on the flattened acme,
pulling up upon the top
finally falling, full length.
Then all the world turned white
as he landed, perched beside me,
reflecting moon and sun,
generating light and heat,
flowing life anew.
I lay there long (did eons pass?)
the mountain shook,
quick up the dragon jumped and flew.
Then I did too.
— 2 —
I spread my wings
as a butterfly with newly unfolded
and dried wings
takes off on its maiden voyage.
I spread them wide then glide among the clouds
uncertain, uneasy, but learning.
Diving into emerald valleys and
soaring over golden mountains,
On and on, I fly through the night
following the trail of the white dragon.
Three times I drifted around the world
finally resting on a tall spire,
a jagged, rocky tower,
standing against the mountainside
–the lair of the white dragon.
Landing where he bade me
through the open doorway to the great hall.
He stood majestically before the blazing hearth.
There we stood before the fire
hour upon hour as he taught me…
about…dragons
and who they are
and where they’ve been
and where they’re going
and when.
I listened, I learned,
the mouse–how it scurries
quietly in the moonlight;
the sparrow–where it hides
in the shadow of the hawk.
Morning came too soon
but as the sun rose
the white dragon,
king of his realm,
shining bright in his pearlescent scales,
began to fade.
“I’ll return when needed!”
then vanished.
I curled up near the flames,
settled down to sleep,
to dream, to remember the words
of the white dragon.
In dreams I flew beyond the moon,
danced among the stars,
came home to the lair
to rule in justice, mercy, love
just as the white dragon had taught.
— 3 —
Oh how happy were the days
and years that passed
the people prosperous, had plenty
life was good,
within the wood,
the Kingdom of the White Dragon.
He’d left the yellow wyvern to rule
–just as he’d taught.
And so it was — love throughout
they all agreed and no one fought
each one filled with food
and satisfaction.
There came a storm one night
and with it, doubt and fright.
It swirled the clouds and shook the earth.
It left, a reminder stayed behind.
There it stood,
beside White Dragon’s mountain lair.
So huge, so round, so black,
and black, so black, it was as nothing there,
but then it vomit forth
a winged, clawed serpent — a nightmare.
It slithered through the villages,
turned all to ash and soot,
it breathed the flames of fire and death
of deepest fear and dark despair.
The people cried, “Please save us!
We’ve no where left to run!”
The wyvern in the mountain lair
could see the smoke and
heard the cries of their despair.
He hesitated — just a thought –
wished for the white dragon
to be there, then
Spread his wings and glided to the town
and there attacked the monstrosity –
It grabbed the wyvern with its jaws,
tried to slash him with its claws.
The steel sharp teeth bit tighter,
but fell loose so suddenly,
when to its surprise,
a bright, white light appeared
with White Dragon there inside.
(The wyvern fell down,
landed hard on the ground,
could neither move nor make a sound.)
The black rose up and in its spite,
tried to lunge into the white.
It clawed and slashed and bit the wind –
still couldn’t get inside –
White Dragon then arose
and climbed into the world.
He spread his wings across the land
and healed what could be healed.
His brightness and his shining
held the black at bay
and pushed him toward his blackened lair
to send him far away.
The black was filled with hatred
and death blazed in his eyes,
he jumped and caught the white
in the softness of his side.
White Dragon screamed aloud in pain,
his eyes turned bloody red.
He must save his people,
he must save his land.
He’d never, ever, ever stop
until he was dead!
He screamed once more,
the earth turned white
far beyond the normal light.
He sprang up high and took to wing
but from his side
the milky blood kept pouring.
When it splashed upon the black,
its flesh began to burn,
it yelped and ran back to the gate
from which it once had come.
But there up on the wheel-top,
the white now stood his ground.
He watched the black disintegrate
then melt into the void.
The white then lifted up
the ring of death
and placed it on a sun-bound
asteroid.
Then home he flew to fix the land
and heal whom he could heal
to take the pain and bitterness,
to mend the hearts, repair the hands.
At last he found the yellow wyvern
so broken, almost dead,
gently lifted him with his forearms
held him tightly to his head.
“Your sacrifice was great my friend.
I came as I had promised.
You’ll never be forgotten
for your bravery and courage.”
With that he held him to his side
where blood was pouring still,
and thus it closed the wound.
It healed.
Now two are one forevermore,
the kingdom safe,
the struggle won.