A
Smoke Dragon sits on a mountain.
Crawling
curlicues of smoke circling
The
mountain top
Colliding
and colluding with the clouds
So
thinly stretched they are transparent;
Tears
appearing as in old worn sheets.
The
people lived in a dampened form of
Permanent
terror
Caught
in patterns of forgotten fear inherited
From
unmet ancestors:
No
one alive had seen the smoke Dragon.
No
one alive doubted the existence of the Smoke Dragon.
At the foot of the Mountain
Lived
the girl who ate books:
Onkei
had begun life
Caught
on the currents of curiosity
Catching
knowledge like the sails of a
Boat
courting the breeze.
She
lived a heightened life of
Brightened
discovery.
Curating
the skills of generations
Of
unmet ancestors:
No
one alive knew as much as Onkei.
No
one alive was as aware of their lacking knowledge as Onkei.
As inevitably as time moves through moonlight
Onkei
became aware of the dragon
Dancing
thoughts drifted up the mountain to tangle
With
tails of tepid smoke.
Dragon
smoke.
Silly
slaying soldiers
Enigmatic
exorcisms
Were
rejected
So
she continued consuming text
Until
the answer drew clear
Clear
as a smokeless mountain
The
dragon lived on fear.
Epilogue: there is nothing to fear but fear itself. Books are good.
Onkei continues to eat books. The smoke Dragon is gone.
