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This is my dragon. He found me today.
He had been searching for me a long time.
I lost him many years ago when I was young.
I took a wrong turn. Some had called it life.
So many have died of what they call life,
In vain their dragons searching for them,
I know I am fortunate, unlike them—
My dragon found me and shared his fire with me
Before he breathed his last in the disguise
He had worn all these years calling for me
(Dragons who must hide must also die).
He opened his mouth as if to swallow me,
But only whispered his dream for me—
I forfeited flight when I ran from my dream
But I can still believe his dream in me.
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About the Author
R Allen Shoaf
EROTIC RECKONINGS, my second volume of poetry, can now be purchased from New Plains Press or from Amazon. My third volume, PIED-PIPER PHILOL
LAW-BREAKERS, NOT LAW-MAKERS: THE TEA-RANNY PARTY As the Tea-ranny Party continues to hack away at the root of American singularity, or the Constitution — the Constitution of a democracy founded in government of the people, by the people, for the people — it becomes clearer and clearer that their...
An experiment in rhymed iambic pentameter as a disciplining of thoughts and emotions about mortality.
A meditation on the life of Bach, having just read Sir John Eliot Gardiner's splendid biography, *Bach: Music in the Castle of Heaven*. As you read or listen to me read my poem, remember that the name "Sebastian" derives from the Greek word that translates Latin "Augustus"--both mean "venerable."
One of my regular exercises is to practice translation of an aria I sing. You can hear me sing both the original German and my translation under SHOW ALL MEDIA (in the right-hand column).