Те Dragons са нещо, както Watchers за Нек.
The Voice of Dragons
The Voice of Dragons rings in my ears. The ears that
do not hear human words, but hear only the thinly
whispered truth of the cosmos.
Would it be that either they were louder and more easily
discerned, or silent, not to be heard at all.
For it is the sound of the Creation and the passing away
of the All that I hear buzzing in my Inner ears. It is
the Energy that brings Creation into Being that is the
Dragon's true Voice.
The Dragons Dance, the motion and movement of All That Is,
mingles with the rapturous voice of a million billion
stars cradled in the arms of Creation, that I hear in
the quiet of the night; that threaten to drive me mad.
The Voice of Dragons who know me by name, who call me to
the Dance. They call, but I do not know the steps. I
do not know the movements. The magick of Creation has
moved beyond me in all but the mundane world. The spark
has all but died.
The Voice of Dragons speak to me of life and death and
moving beyond the physical to a Freedom un-dreamed of.
It is the Voice of Dragons which allows me to hold this
gem of great wonder in the palm of my powerless hand. It
is only in the surrender that I find victory, in apathy
that I find wonder, in helplessness that I find courage.
The Voice of Dragons; the story of worlds; the dreams
beyond the Voice of Dragons.
The dreams that live in Truth and the Truth that lives
in dreams; this too is the Voice of Dragons. Not so
silent. Not so close to hand. The shining red apple,
sweet, but too sweet to be Truth. A web of paradox.
An entanglement of trying.
But I am tired and the Voice of Dragons rushes in hushed
gusts in my mind; too little to hear, too much to
understand. A great sigh as my heart tramples on down
this dusty road of Voices.
Voices. Voices. The litany drags me on … to another day.
And then a matrix of movement, the very meaning of life
itself, scuttles close, as a bug upon the ground; a bug
of little significance; a bug of little import. And it
is all so clear for one shining moment, then gone as the
bug scurries under the rug.
A hiving in the Voice of Dragons; harmonic and discordant;
a pattern within a pattern, so jewel-like that it is
blinding to behold, impossible to comprehend until that
bug scuttles across the toe of my shoe, then is gone
once more.
The Voice of Dragons roars with laughter at the cosmic
joke that is just too simple for me to comprehend;
too complex for me to grasp in its simplicity.
The sanity of others means nothing, it belongs only to the
dead that live and breath and never dream. Whose inner
ears are closed to the Voice of Dragons.
A Prayer in the Voice of Dragons
This is the prayer that I hear in the Voice of Dragons.
It rings as if it were that clear singular voice of Truth.
"O cosmic Birther of all radiance and vibration!
Soften the ground of my being and carve out a space
within me where your Presence can abide.
Fill me with your creativity so that I may be empowered
to bear the fruit of your mission.
Let each of my actions bear fruit in accordance with my desire.
Endow me with the wisdom to produce and share what each
being needs to grow and flourish.
Untie the tangled threads of destiny that bind me, as I
release others from the entanglement of past mistakes.
Do not let me be seduced by that which would divert me
from my true purpose, but illuminate the opportunities
of the present moment.
For you are the ground and the fruitful vision, the
birth-power and fulfilment, as all is gathered and
made whole once again."
Creation in the Voice of Dragons
In a gust of wind I hear the sound of
A new born infant's first breath, first cry.
Creation!
It is the first night.
Be praised.
But I am a Crone.
And in my croning I hear what I never could before.
I understand what I never could while in the act.
I stand aloof and see the Birthing, the Rearing,
The Creation that was once too near to see.
The birth of a universe, the birth of a world,
The birth of a single human child.
It is all the same.
Worlds within worlds, life within life.
It is a verb, an action, a doing.
Creation is in the Voice of Dragons.
са мо че не ми се превежда, сори
