Alone she swims in murky depths below.
It's said her eyes are dark and eerie with
an amber glow. We're told her home is far
away, a mystic place of ancient myth.
The truth unknown, our minds conjecture still,
a monstrous eel, menacing, coiled in wait.
We've not seen her and pray we never will,
to meet, we're sure, would bring a fearful fate.
But why are we afraid to venture deep?
Our apprehension seems to be too strong,
like nightmares bringing terror as we sleep,
yet morning finds us safe where we belong.
And does this dragon live in distant sea?
Or is she lying, buried deep in me?
Believing I must radiate cheer and light,
I go about my tasks throughout the day.
Why do I lie awake into the night
with anxious thoughts that will not go away?
We're told that dragons are malignant things
that prey on those exploring the unknown,
and some are said to have enormous wings
to chase down those who venture out alone.
But then a dragon voice speaks from within.
She tells me that the dark must be explored,
my hidden hopes and fears are not a sin,
instead, in dusky places dreams are stored.
For now I see her beauty as I find
that she was always there, but I was blind.
Anne Johnson