Sing of Dragons

An autumn sunset burning bright,
limning clouds in a fiery light.
A lonely figure by the sea
who sings of dragons flying free.

The lonely figure standing tall
keeps singing on as shadows fall;
when night descends on him it seems
that all the world is cloaked in dreams.

The figure on by moonlight sings
to hear the far-off beat of wings
and, gazing into starry night,
to catch a glimpse of dragon flight.

Bereft, the figure leaves the shore
and of the dragons sings no more;
the dragon flight he thought he saw
is banished now by nature’s law.

In solitude he starts to cry
for dragon flight turned into lie.
He for a time in silence weeps,
then laying on the sand, he sleeps.

In sleep a fading echo rings
of lonely men and dragon’s wings;
to dream returns the memory
of splendor soaring o’er the sea.

As dawn’s first light shines in his eyes
burnished clouds take a dragon’s guise;
with grateful wonder now he sings
how sunlight glints on dragons’ wings.

In joyous song he hears the sound
of dragons crowding all around
as from the waves the creatures rise
on golden wings into the skies.

He watches dragons fly away
as dawn’s light slowly turns to day,
raising his voice to praise the sight
of dragons glorious in flight.

When now his heart for dragons longs,
calling to mind those magic songs
his soul takes flight above the sea
and soars in skies where dragons be.

©2017 Bill Hazelrig (from long ago, but rewritten 2017)