The Dragon Abides

In alchemizing my rage, I learned where to forgive and where to erect sturdy boundaries of never-again.

Once upon a time, I became a dragon.

Fire and smoke billowed from my nostrils.

My belly roared with rage and passion.

An ounce of barely formed trust had been betrayed.

I took refuge in the depths of the forest.

My pain was too much for the others.

Only the earth could take this pain.

Trees were uprooted, bones and teeth gnashed, flesh was broken.

Ancient screams echoed through the trees.

I waged war on the unacceptable and the intolerable in defense of the gems I hold dearly within.

I hid my light because my darkness was not respected and my blaze, too bright and blinding.

Sweat dripped from every pore as I succumbed to the heat of my own fire.

I burned. I burned and burned and burned, burned it all down.

My throat became hoarse, flames leapt and danced, ashes soon surrounded me.

Photo by Gaspar Uhas on Unsplash

Then the mourning came and I grieved what I had lost.

All that was left was peace. And love.

In alchemizing my rage, I learned where to forgive and where to erect sturdy boundaries of never-again.

But forgiveness alone does not heal the core wound.

What was seen as unbearably threatening is now seen as ignorant innocence, deadly bliss, rupturing rapture.

Between the violence of my wailing and the lightness of my being, I abide within the painful tension of paradox.

I am fire and air, earth and water.

I am Dragon.

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