Narrative occult/pagan poem, need thoughts and suggestions.
Under the silver light of a full moon,
Waiting alone, with spirits to commune,
A young woman wades knee-deep into waves.
Her body is naked, her face is grave.
Though the season is late and the air cold,
She shows no fear as her story unfolds:
“I have chased the dragon for years now.
I have looked for it in dreams and drugs,
In cities and cemeteries, by light
Of a punishing sun (whose glory I
Abandoned to tread my Mistress’s Halls)
And by succoring darkness, whose embrace
Always kept me both comforted and cold.
“I have sought the wisdom of the scholars,
Living in libraries for four long years;
There myth became only a metaphor -
Dragon became dream, an invented image
Conjured from boredom, and that was all magic.
Lies I learned, rules of reason derived from
A science which has finally denied
Its founding law: that of empirical
Evidence and the testament of the senses.
I saw the dragon; I’d see it again.
“I have traveled as a snail, bearing
My house upon my back, searching the world
That lies beneath - the sunless lands where
Shades sadly sway to long forgotten songs.
Cutting my body to mark time’s passing,
I looked for answers from those gone before.
My steps were shadowed by men in white suits,
Prescription-pushers, petty bureaucrats,
Seeking to sanitize, brainwash, baptize -
I evaded them and grew ever stronger.
Sweet Madness became my muse, wonderful
Singing defiant over choking fear.
She soothes me, holds me, and I know She is
Misunderstood - that sometimes the windmills
Are giants. Wisdom in madness, old wives say,
And I studied the scars of my sickness,
A runic alphabet carved into skin,
And I grasped the magic which lies in pain,
In Will and the strength of the Body,
In accepting Madness and listening
For the irrational’s intrusion.
“For one full turning of the moon’s cycle,
I have stood upon these lonely beaches,
Heir to a call I did not understand,
Waiting for my new teachers to appear,
Waiting to study with creatures of Dream.
I saw the dragon; I’ll see it again.
“Oneiromancer, I’ve dubbed myself, and
Symbologer is a joke that came true -
But there is magic in this, all of the
World which flowers and withers around me.
Each turn of my path brings new challenges,
New pains to dull my days and cut my dreams,
And I never know whether I’ll hold firm
Or shatter entirely. But one truth I know:
I saw a dragon. I’ll see it again.”
So she spoke, and raised her arms to the dark
Sky, bending her body like a bow’s arc.
The Border wavers, the Veil grows thin:
The gates of the Otherlands stand open.