Reflections of The Dragon Soul
What a poor mental vessel, are we,
To contain such visions of light.
What manner of soul occupies our own,
Urging us ever towards all that is bright.
Never letting us rest our frail forms,
until we have learned the lessons they teach.
Raising us ever skyward, soaring in the storms,
Until, finally, we are within their reach.
And they clasp with talons, strong and real,
our souls within their hands they guide.
When we arrive at our final destination,
they sit, enigmatic and silent as the tide.
Leaving us to wonder at what we have learned.
Leaving our souls branded with their brilliance.
Never to know another moment's peaceful turn,
Until we are joined for all eternity?
What is this presence that consumes our own...
And sings to us of family, friend and home?
That whispers in our hearts at night...
Inviting us to join their flight.
Smiles toothily when we heed their call...
with laughter rumbling over all.
That suffuses our lives we lead every day...
purring in our ears, "Come, let us play...
fly with me and you will observe...
that life is such a simple curve...
with a beginning and an end...
and something beyond, time to spend...."
Copyright ©1995 Terry Schorer/Quelonzia
