Pride of Dragons

Skimming in flight that darkens the ground below,
Lofting through air as high and as cold as snow,
Go those who catch light in their wings like flagons,
Go those who sparkle madly, the pride of dragons.

They soar as if they have just learned flight's name,
Their bodies turned brilliant by the golden sun's flame,
Their mouths roaring open, their golden jaws apart,
Their wings beating out a thunder that appalls the human heart.

Below them, villagers fall with their hands to bleeding ears,
The sheep run bleating with nightmare-born fears,
The horses gallop as if trying to match their pace,
And wolves hide from their light's speed and hunter's grace.

From the farthest corners of the skies they come,
Rushing together just as the beats of a drum
Rush together to a make a song, just as the sounds of feet
Rush together to make a dance. They fly to a soundless beat

That they make sound in the sound of the crash of their wings.
They honor the flame and the light and other radiant things.
They turn and they spin around each other, adorned with fire,
Their bodies clad in radiance, dark golden eyes filled with ire.

One of them pulls away and gives a loud trilling call
That makes the trees away below him in a crash of thunder fall.
His wings stretch, and he flings himself, uncaring, unlooking, skyward.
The others fly to overtake he who has proclaimed himself lord.

They forget everything in their rising save the joy of flight.
Behind them, the world melts away, and not even the light
Can keep up with them as, twisting and turning, banking, they fly.
Of the speed, or the fall, or the joy, they may die.

Higher and higher they lift, and still there flames ahead
The most daring of tham all, his scales deep golden-red,
His chest flung forward with the force of the call and with pride,
His eyes the gleam of all of the lovely things that have ever died.

Pride drives them forward to catch up with him as well,
Their necks straining forward, their wings singing like bells,
Their jaws breathing streams of flame that fall far short of him.
They try desperately to match each challenge, each effortless skim.

They cannot, and he flies alone, at last leaving them far behind,
And wheeling at a height and speed that baffle even dragon mind.
But not his; he lifts his wings high to embrace the fire of the sun,
The only light in the cold spacy darkness, save for this radiant one.

He spirals and at last falls softly, losing a little of the height,
And allows himself to bathe in the reward of his pride, the light.
Light thrums through his wings, light teaches him the phoenix's trade,
And he can perish from what he has been, and rise again remade.

Reborn, he returns at long last in a long fall to earth,
And finds the other dragons still soaring and twisting, knowing nothing of rebirth.
He falls among them, honored at once, and recognized,
The only dragon among them who followed the far call of pride.

There is silence- no trilling calls, no crackles of fire-
As he sweeps through them, and around them, and fills their hearts with desire
To be where he has been, see what he has seen, and do what he has done,
To fly among the stars and be honored by the bright blast of the sun.

The dragon-lord calls to them again, and this time they do as told,
Following him to heights undreamed of, that sudden beast of gold.
The world beyond gazes after them in envy at the wonderous chance
They have been given, and wonders what new fire they will weave in their dance.