We greet rain with dour eyes, <br />down turned mouth, sighs.... <br />wishing blue, sun, clear skies. <br />Grumble dragon's flame, <br />succeeding in creating mist. <br /> <br />Who walks through the mist? <br />That dark figure, silent, slow.... <br /> <br />That being of our own creation. <br />Demon-winged, or angel-robed, <br />laughing at enchanted clouds, <br />leaving no prints to identify.... <br />perhaps our deepest fear, realized.... <br /> <br />It is us.<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dragon-flames/