The Bread Dragon

İ 2000 Joanna Newell
jrnewell@yahoo.com

I saw my
first dragon today
And was lit in her flame;
She shone
in the sun
And spoke- taking all words from my
soul.

I saw my first dragon today,
She lit my heart
aflame
And I lament
She is hidden from them.

I flew
with her beyond the sky
And wished they could feel
The
wind streaking through my hair,
Taste the burning
magic.

Woe that I cannot describe her,
Silver scales
burn white in dayıs illumination;
Luminous ebony eyes
pierce my soul...
Mountainous wings throw glowing
shadows over all.

Her fire burns hotter than the
sun
And the rumble of her breath burns through me
As
she looks down
Through windows of so many ages.

Woe
that she cannot be spoken-
But I must give her a
name.
Woe that they cannot see her-
They are hidden
from her power.

Can not I make them see?
I will make
a dragon
Of flour and water and salt
And I will paint
her.

They will not see.

Her image fades into the
shadows of trees-
Until summoned she
dissolves,
Leaving her shadow burned into my mind
to
haunt my dreams.

She is baked, she is painted,
Can
they see her in the flour?
When will her shadow
Flow
from my hands?

The shadow, the crystal, the
flame-
They cannot see her,
Yet now they may look
Over
bread to find her.

Tell them to look
Tell them to
wait
To listen, to feel
I will tell them.

I will tell
the story,
That they may drink from the crystal
cup
And breathe fire.
I will reveal their dragons

Preserving, for their light, the flame.