Sunday, March 8, 2015

The Dragon is Waking xxx

And now for something completely different from me... 

The green dragon is slumbering, it's hedge like back prickling the skyline
It's seasonal disguise of white, but a blanket for deeper sleep, gathering power 
to send out hidden treasures through the kingdom
From where I sit daily, I can see it. The rainbow illuminating its skin. 
Treasure at the end? Or coloured sparkles like letters to the fae.
The glint of golden pots at the end of the rainbow? Or two golden dragon eyes 
watching out across the fields, woodland and village, magic post in action?
The full moon bringing the final push of life to the dormant energies, there to see 
for those whom look closely. 
Awake. Now.
The spreading white bluebells tinkling the message.
The hidden wells refilling, quenching and journeying. 
The souls guarding.
 Long forgotten wells, now capped with memorials to lost brave souls, so never forgotten.
Shroom fairy houses springing up on the cricket pitch, the thud of arrow on target in the distance.
Human size fae, myth and legend.
Robin Hood just out of shot with his merry band.
Deliberate paths trod, well worn and with sapphire gems.  
The smell of the daytime ninja fox afresh, carrying the message further.
Sometimes, you can see toddler sized fairies, adorned with cow parsley 
headdress and wand. Chattering and laughing, on task with a job to do.
Portals to their world plenty, and sightings well reported  generation to generation.
The same place always, over a cup of tea, the elders will share.
If you take a moment to stop and look,there can be no doubt. 
Just be open to looking from the beaten track, and spot the signs.
Hidden in the undergrowth, new worlds are found.
Sometimes very clear, with a story to tell.
From a new perspective, some call this magic. 
Dragon magic spreading across the land.
Ha like Hogwarts some jest? But see, there it is. Look closer. It is real.
There to be seen, if you know when and where to look.
Timing perhaps?
Like the badger home of the solitary oak, only accessible after the harvest gone
with bounty to be found and paths marked out on the floor in all directions.
A marker to all, 'Go a far as the solitary oak then...'
Some unmarked, just small hidden treasures nestled away like a favourite book.
Dreamlike yet physical to the touch.
Or the obvious, like Telegrpah Farm, its previous job 
communicating by telegraph to the sea
As do the sea nymphs on the horizon where land meets sky,
calling across the fields in return to the the dryads.
The dragon is awaking
The long straight paths, pilgrim roads, Roman Roads, home to the dryads.
The sea they see. 
Connecting earth, sea, sky, spirit, animal, fae, humankind and many not yet known.

But for now, from here I sit. Full circle I have travelled.  
I watch the dragon again from my window
Yawning, as the season jolts in the anewed sunlight
From the dragons eye, looking down across the kingdom into my window, 
the dragon nods. 
The adventure begins...



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xxx