a photograph by Sonja Bingen, our daughter
48. Upon the Brink of Destruction
a passage from The Dragon Epic by Thomas Davis
1
As Sshruunak and his followers began
To flee the village, Mmirrimann sent out
A panicked plea to stop. Ssruaanne had swerved
To miss the ground near where Ruanne was chanting
Her power song and started following
The beaten dragon horde toward the chaos
That swirled its void around the village walls.
“Join with the witches’ singing!” Mmirrimann
Demanded. “Find a balance for the world!”
The realms of death swept over cottages
And sang their chaos deep in sentient minds.
Ssruaanne wheeled in the sky and linked her mind
Into the song Ruanne was singing, coldness
Numbed deep beneath her scales into her hearts.
She felt the power flowing from the singing Wei
Who’s linked into the words Ruanne was chanting.
She felt the search that Wei was making, lost
Inside the storm of nothingness, the flotsam
Of spirits, once alive, a ghostly dance
That swirled into the living universe
And started disassembling the order
That made time’s arrow flow, its winging gluing
Together possibilities of sentient life.
As Mmirrimann’s strong spirit joined the song
And other dragons found the stream of beauty
Entwined into the magic Ruanne made,
The cording of the music found the fear
In human, dragon hearts and grew until
The silent sound formed bubbles that surrounded
The village and the forest and the lives
That gave the earth its meaning laced in time.
Reality, assaulted by the winds
Of death, rose out of humans, dragons, trees,
And shimmered as another war erupted,
The chaos trembling over all of life
As life fought back with sentient hearts and song.
Below the floors where children hid from dragons,
Their mothers held their small ones close and tried
To ward away the chilling cold with love.
Inside the caves where guardians hovered over
The clutches of the dragon eggs, stunned dragons
Reached out to find the song Ruanne had started
And tried to use the warmth inside the song
To keep the eggs from crumbling to mist
So fierce it penetrated stone-deep walls
Protecting caves and cliffs and dragon life.
2
Ruarther tried to move his legs toward
The cottage wall he’d almost reached when mist
Descended over him and took away
Reality from eyes and touch and smell.
He felt the Spirit Bear, still whole, beside
Him, looking for a way into his physicality,
But, like he’d done inside the weirding wood,
He drove into himself until he felt
The song Ruanne was in his life and started
The process of building who he was from scratch,
His burning core alive inside the deadness.
He could not feel his movement through the mist,
But still he struggled, pushing out from deep
Inside himself into the world he knew existed.
Then, like a hint of morning light before
Light filtered dusk into a cloud cloaked sky,
He thought he heard Ruanne, her sweet, strong voice,
Outside his head, but still inside his mind.
He reached for her and fell into abyss
As dragon minds and human minds were linked
And drummed as loud as any symphony
Had ever been at any human time.
The power of the mind-song slammed his heart.
He even felt the song sung by the stones
That only moved inside eternal time.
He moved inside the sound until he found
The chanting of Ruanne’s sweet voice and joined
His voice to hers and wove a melody
Of two inside the strands of music weaving
Defense against the terror of the void.
There needs to be some certainty in life,
He thought. Inside the certainty is love.
To listen to this passage, click on .
Note: This is the forty eighth passage of a long narrative poem, which has grown into The Dragon Epic. Originally inspired by John Keats’ long narrative poem, Lamia, it tells a story set in ancient times when dragons and humans were at peace. Click on the numbers below to reach other sections, or go to the Categories box to the right under The Dragon Epic. Click on Dragonflies, Dragons and Her Mother’s Death to go to the beginning and read forward. Go to Living Inside Chaos to read the passage before this one.
Filed under Poetry, The Dragon Epic, Thomas Davis
Near the Ocean
a photograph by Alazanto, Kevin Davis, our son
Note: This is a photo that takes some looking at before you actually see what’s there.
Filed under Art, Photography
The Answer
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
“I could never
live in a place
where it doesn’t rain
and isn’t green.”
“It’s the same earth
that’s wrapped around
the great lakes,
just farther west
and south.”
“What do you see in it?”
“I see clouds hugging
the tall mountains and not
letting go.
I see the white rose
and purple blossom
existing in the dry land
because they are sacred.
I see the people
come outside and celebrate
with dance
in the eternal circle
when the rains finally
do come.”
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
The Well
a children’s poem by Thomas Davis
“The well has gone dry for the winter!
Oh my! Oh my! What shall we do?
The well has gone dry for the winter!
Oh my! Oh my! What shall we do?”
“Go down to the creek with a bucket
And clear the crusted ice away.
Dip the bucket into the water
And carry the water away.”
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
Ancient Cord
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
The ancient peoples
yoked themselves
to the night sky,
studied the moon’s cycles,
the planets,
and solar eclipses.
We, however, at night,
tie ourselves
to the television, computer,
and cell phone,
barely noticing
the daily changes
in temperature,
or lunar phases.
We have cut the cord,
lost our beginnings
and futures—
the time of when to start
spring planting,
the time of the salmon run
up the river,
and the time of calving
of elk and deer.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
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