Remember The Dragon?

This post follows on from The Siberian Dragon posted 7 December 2011


Remember the dragon? Remember
That cold, cold egg? This is a night
Of magic. A holy night, a time where
Miracles take place.

On the shortest day of the year,
The dragon abandons hope.
He rolls the egg out of the cave,
And gently down to the ice.

It's time to let go. He reaches
The hole in the ice, and pauses.
Looking towards the West, the
Sun is setting. The sun that hangs low.

Hanging low in the sky, it keeps
Vigil, over a sleeping earth. The dragon
Has lived long enough to know that
The days will lengthen again.

Has lived long enough to understand
Light and dark, shadow and light.
Still, he hesitates. It seems too final,
Somehow, to tip the egg into the hole.

As the sun disappears, he lifts one
Scaly paw, and rests it on the shell.
Startled, he thinks he feels the egg
Move. He bends his head down low,

And catches in that moment a vision
Of impossibility. The egg feels warm.
It seems to be cracking. A tiny beak
Appears through the shell. He watches.

Night turns to day. With the dawning
Of a new day, new life appears.
That egg, so cold, so dead, has
Yielded life. It's inexplicable.

The dragon cradles his newborn son,
Close between his legs, shielding him
From the bitter winds blowing in off the ice.
He has a child. He's not alone.

He stares at the rising sun. He stares
At his sleeping son. His great heart
Continues to beat; but now another rhythm
Has arrived. Heart to heart, the dragons sit.