For Poets United: Mid-Week Motif – finding the extraordinary in the ordinary
13 Ways I See My Dragon
Call her Heth, short for Marananthaheth
which, in her language, means nurturer.
She tells me that all Dragon names
end in that brief, breathed out syllable,
which means Home and all things
Bright, shiny metalic-like, crimson scales
that glint in the poorest of light.
Warm dancing sparks of a bonfire,
or another bloody sunrise.
Whirling eyes that miss nothing,
especially rapid fire mood swings
of this puny human she calls,
“Little One,” with deepest affection,
that can be felt like a soft woolen shawl
draped over old woman’s shoulders.
Crooning an ancient dragon lullaby
that sounds like gentle bells
calling a soul home from distant
indigo blue horizon.
Personal patient Instructor
asking hard as stone questions,
yet willing to wait for months
for a stammering, unclear
thick as fog response.
On foot, slow and ponderous as an elephant
crossing a dry river bed,
but in the air, better than any bald eagle
I have ever seen. And far swifter.
Wisdom as deep and turbulent
as an ocean, breathing fire
of life into all that surrounds her.
Unknowing sense of humor
which results in laughter
that bounces off the walls
of her lair and moves
like a fresh spring breeze
to clear the air.
Restless shape-shifter, able to become
small enough to rest in palm
of hand or, in an instant, grow
to height of a towering skyscraper.
Keeper of the Keys, and Guardian
of The Book of Dragons.
Knowing all other dragons
by name, past, present,
Bends to welcome weight
of this puny human on her back
in order to fly her to distant stars
and other galaxies.
Lover of Light and Enlightenment.
Protector of all things Elizabeth,
but especially of imagination.
Elizabeth Crawford 6/15/2017
Notes: Heth is my imagination, and after writing this out, I realized that my imagination might not be so ordinary. My apologies for being late, have been without internet for half a day.
Image is a digital painting, titled Dragon’s Lair