There be dragons
Would you like to peer into the sky of another world, an alien universe gently throbbing in the veins of the obvious? To see people adrift like a thousand floating halos, and mad colours and indecent hallelujahs wrapping themselves around things? Would you want to know what dragons really look like? A world much fonder to the heart than this one…this titan mountain of steel and laughing lords? It isn’t as difficult as you might think. Listen keenly to your child. Heed her instructions. She knows the terrain of invisible landscapes, worlds woven into worlds. Let her take you by the hand, and lead you to the city. There, giggling and cheering, she will preside over the forgotten rituals of your initiation as you dance, red-faced, before quizzical passers-by. At first you might be embarrassed, but trust that is just as well. In a moment, when the deed is done, and you collapse by the street corner in a heap of sweat and uncertain chuckles, you might hear the ruffling of mighty feathers; you might feel a strange gust of wind; or, in the knowing smile of another stranger, you might know a certain kinship – a gift – a religion that transcends creed and reward, the kind known to those that have learned to notice.
And We shall Dance with the Mountains