In my deep place I birthed a dragon.
It wasn't real of course,
But it flew with terrible grace
Blew fire that burned the clutter away
Showed the secret door forward.
Through the door but slowly,
Sadly waving farewell, not
Knowing who my next guardian would be.
In the meadow I found a horse,
Sparks from her hooves,
Mane whipping in the harsh wind, and
On her back I rode and rode.
She crossed a desert with me, nearly,
Dying a day's walk from its edge.
I mourned.
Alone I walked from the desert, dry,
Calm, quiet, at peace.
At the edge of the city I found a
Mewling cat, demanding worship.
In his eyes, the desert remained.
In the market, in the bustle, I
Nestle into his fur and I
Still can find peace.
