Child of the Oak, and Dragon Borne
I walk this land with gestures grand, and never yet has she failed me. Into the green i have come, i have seen, the path, that guides me.
From rock and stones, the foundation, my home, the green guardian guides me. The tumult high, the rock of dragon eye, the cavern of ages, i spy.
The coils that wind, the path i find, the journey, to the soul. From the greenest knoll, of dragon's soul, to the blackest night of tar and coal.
The foundations where then, the giants of men, the stones that formed the cauldron borne, in which we all transmute and transform. From the pain of the night and inner sight, to the birthing of the new dawn. Deep within most comforting i let my guardian guide me.
To crystal caves and light waves, pools, stones, rock and bones. To the inner keep where the dragons sleep, where limestone forms, and weeping walls, the dragon eye, of rock does lie, and slumber in crystal haze, while whiling away the crystal days.
The rock the schale of dragon scale, of inner strength and infinite self. The green guardian guides me.
Blessed are we that seek and see, the journey of our soul. The spiral coils, the inner spoils, the tales of men, both there and back again, my green guardian guides me.
By
Penny Young
