It is so hard to put into words that can be understood just what it means to be a dragon. To be on the receiving end of a viewer, passionately watching the parade of life as it moves forward, is one feeling. To have dreams in which my dragon self tries, however obscurely, to guide me or show me. To look in a mirror and see a faint figure surrounding me. To laugh, and hear that laughter echoed within myself by another *me*.

So very hard to put into words...

My first memories are terror, being afraid, and feelings of being alone. I suppose this was because my mother was diagnosed with tuberculosis when I was just short of four years old, and I was sent to live in a foster home for a few months before my grandparents were able to come get me and my baby brother. At that time, it was felt that children shouldn't be in a home where a parent with tuberculosis had dwelled. Although my memories of this time are not very coherent, this is the first time that I dreamed of the dragon. I remember being fascinated with the rainbows shining off of her scales, and the lilting chimes of her voice were very soothing.

I continued to have dreams of the prism dragon all throughout my youth, and even managed to eventually understand her chiming voice...not in words, but in feelings and pictures. When I was a teenager, I started writing poetry, to try to express some of my dreams and the epiphanies they brought about in my life.

As I grew to an adult, and had children of my own, the dreams began to come less frequently. Almost as if the dragon knew that my life was full of babies, and dreaming for them. As my children grew into young women with dreams of their own, the dragon started reappearing in my dreams almost constantly. Now the dreams were even more cryptic, and full of hidden meanings. For a time, I actually resented the dreams. It seemed to me that the dragon was trying to tell me something that I just wasn't ready to hear.

Around 1990, I felt like my waking self and my sleeping self were suddenly starting to merge. I no longer thought of the dragon in my dreams as *separate* from *me*. Rather, I felt like it was an extension of myself, something I had invented long ago to help me cope with life. This notion also was short-lived, however, because the dreams became more frequent and more obscure. It seemed at the time, as if my dragon self was trying to break through some barrier between us, to reach some accord between us...

Now, I no longer question whether the dragon is me or I am the dragon. I just am. I figure, if I'm nuts, that's okay, because I've always obviously been nuts. If I'm not, and what I know is real, then maybe there are others out there who feel like I do, and wouldn't mind some company. *smiles*

© 2001 Quelonzia Stormdancer