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Upon the Wings of Dragons
- Upon the Wings of Dragons -
Upon the wings of dragons, dreams descend upon the slumbering mind's eye,
Bringing forth such imaginings, that in their surreal beauty would oft surprise...
For all that we are, and all that we could be, within those dreams do thusly lie.
It matters not the face we wear, when upon we awaken upon the sun's rise...
We all have our dreams, and our dragons aplenty, that guide us upon our way,
When we do rise to face yet another hour in another long and laborious day.
'Upon the eyes that look and see, with understanding, there is such wonder,
And all who wonder thus, as children are want to, they are strong as thunder.'
Oh to fly on the wings of dreams made fresh and real, and savor the illusion...
Knowing it will not fade, nor grow distant with time, nor fail to inspire our soul!
Oh to know that what wonder we find is of this world, free of any confusion...
The songs we might sing in that hour would rival the angels in all glory to extol!
Are we not glorious when in the light of our dreams, we wield a power mighty,
And using it for good, create an art like no other, sharing it so that all may see?
'Upon the winds of Elysium, every dream is borne unto a far, destined shore,
And upon the cheeks of those where they blow, contentment is had evermore.'
Where would we go, if in one instant, we could cross the spans that separate?
What would we do, if in one instant, we could touch any heart with our poetry!
To know for a certainty that inspiration could make a difference in every state,
The conscious and the unconscious, both elevated to heights beyond all ecstasy.
Now that would be an art most fair, and what music upon our lyres so shaped,
That the Muses would be all clad in it, and over their forms it would be draped!
'Upon the hours of the day, a day spent well is crowned with a shining raiment,
And those who spin such cloth of their lives, are forever made joyfully content.'
Oh to sing with a voice that could touch heaven, and move the gods to manifest,
Their glory filling every space, and of every place an Olympus made from earth!
Then would mankind know divinity well, and the sovereignty of it never contest,
Lest to question it would thusly be: to question even the hour of one's own birth.
And to every hand that reaches out, another reaching back like God to Adam...
Would that not be art, to stand forever in the light of understanding's kingdom!
'Upon the heights of paradise, every voice raised in song: echoes passing fair,
And every face beholds the glory that, before, had hidden from them there.'
What magic even in magic made, where Diana from her lofty place descends...
To share in the fellowship of her faithful, and join in their gatherings down here!
What glory even in glory known, in such a world: where no one so condemns...
The faith of another, for all faiths manifest would be as equal and draw all near,
To hear what truths may be learned from listening to others, and so not judging!
A first for mankind, and what dreams that it might birth would cause fair singing.
'Upon the wings of dragons, every fantasy is made a thing of beauty ever pure,
And every dreamer is rewarded, with a wisdom that is both certain and sure.'
Upon the wings of dragons, dreams descend upon the slumbering mind's eye,
Bringing forth such imaginings, that in their surreal beauty would oft surprise...
For all that we are, and all that we could be, within those dreams do thusly lie.
It matters not the face we wear, when upon we awaken upon the sun's rise...
We all have our dreams, and our dragons aplenty, that guide us upon our way,
When we do rise to face yet another hour in another long and laborious day.
'Upon the eyes that look and see, with understanding, there is such wonder,
And all who wonder thus, as children are want to, they are strong as thunder.'
Oh to fly on the wings of dreams made fresh and real, and savor the illusion...
Knowing it will not fade, nor grow distant with time, nor fail to inspire our soul!
Oh to know that what wonder we find is of this world, free of any confusion...
The songs we might sing in that hour would rival the angels in all glory to extol!
Are we not glorious when in the light of our dreams, we wield a power mighty,
And using it for good, create an art like no other, sharing it so that all may see?
'Upon the winds of Elysium, every dream is borne unto a far, destined shore,
And upon the cheeks of those where they blow, contentment is had evermore.'
Where would we go, if in one instant, we could cross the spans that separate?
What would we do, if in one instant, we could touch any heart with our poetry!
To know for a certainty that inspiration could make a difference in every state,
The conscious and the unconscious, both elevated to heights beyond all ecstasy.
Now that would be an art most fair, and what music upon our lyres so shaped,
That the Muses would be all clad in it, and over their forms it would be draped!
'Upon the hours of the day, a day spent well is crowned with a shining raiment,
And those who spin such cloth of their lives, are forever made joyfully content.'
Oh to sing with a voice that could touch heaven, and move the gods to manifest,
Their glory filling every space, and of every place an Olympus made from earth!
Then would mankind know divinity well, and the sovereignty of it never contest,
Lest to question it would thusly be: to question even the hour of one's own birth.
And to every hand that reaches out, another reaching back like God to Adam...
Would that not be art, to stand forever in the light of understanding's kingdom!
'Upon the heights of paradise, every voice raised in song: echoes passing fair,
And every face beholds the glory that, before, had hidden from them there.'
What magic even in magic made, where Diana from her lofty place descends...
To share in the fellowship of her faithful, and join in their gatherings down here!
What glory even in glory known, in such a world: where no one so condemns...
The faith of another, for all faiths manifest would be as equal and draw all near,
To hear what truths may be learned from listening to others, and so not judging!
A first for mankind, and what dreams that it might birth would cause fair singing.
'Upon the wings of dragons, every fantasy is made a thing of beauty ever pure,
And every dreamer is rewarded, with a wisdom that is both certain and sure.'
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