Dragon Dreams

There are some dragons who dream of fire,
Of the new fulfillment of an old desire.
Where they lie and slumber in their lairs,
With smokes infecting the bright darting airs,
They dream of consuming the world,
Of burning it in the fire of dragon eyes,
And holding up before others the scorchéd prize.

There are some dragons who dream of glory,
Of the ending of their lives' long story,
But in nothing so mundane as a burning.
Their dreams are full of complex yearning
For an ending that will lead again to youth.
They lie hidden in caves beneath the waterline,
Their scales bathed by the sea-brine.

There are some dragons who dream of ice,
Of making the world a kind of sacrifice
To powers old beyond their knowing.
These dreams are spun in the sleep growing
From caves and caverns far beneath the earth.
They lie there, frozen, and dream of the cold
That has filled them and made them old.

And there are some dragons who dream of spring,
Of flowers that bloom and birds that sing.
They are sleeping in the midst of clouds,
That enclose their bodies like misty shrouds.
But these are not the clouds that enclose the sun.
They are the ones that shall shine down upon the earth
With the reflected light of dragons' rebirth.