This piece was inspired two nights ago when my boys and I were privy to one of the most spectacular thunderstorms we had ever seen. One called out, “Look its Dragons fire!”
I have experimented here. You might not like it, but I wanted to use words from a few different languages. You will spot them strewn throughout the piece. – enjoy!
“Whoa, look at that Oupa!”
With our faces turned up to an angry sky. We watched as white jagged spears of light sprang from one cloud to the next. I had never seen anything like it. My eyes ached each time a flash hit its target and exploded in a burst of starlight.
Leaves stood on end as though someone had thrown a charm into the air. The heavens lit up with deep purple and silver hues. Silhouetted against this dazzling phenomenon were lithe flying shadows.
The strange forms swam through the black mist that often brought the Aigéad báisteach or acid rain.
Those dank puffs of danger shone like angry moonbeams they had no effect on whatever creatures swam through them now.
Oupa and I were not the only creatures with our eyes glued to the bubbling celestial canopy.
At the base of his great stem; lilac, white and yellow flowers sprouted. Their delicate petals unwrapped to show tiny winged sprites awakening from decades of slumber.
A wondrous magic was unfolding here tonight.
The Klein Mensies pointed toward the thundering assagai. My ears caught the occasional ‘Dragons Fire!’, ‘Draco Spirant’ and ‘Arach Tine.’
“I haven’t seen Dragons Breath since I was, but a budding twig.” Said Oupa, his voice as rough and aged as the bark on his trunk.
My supple body, a thumbs width of his bowed to and fro in the strong winds, stirred from the rampant rumble and flashes of light.
“Dragons Breath?” I asked.
“Why yes young one. They have not blessed our earth with their life force in oh — millennia. Why is it you think our small sphere in the corner of this galaxy has withered like a forgotten prune?”
I looked at him; my slim wooden fingers pushed away the foliage blown across my eyes. “I thought it was because of the two-legged’s and their wasteful ways?”
Oupa shook his truncated head; his long thick branches swooshed in answer left- right, left – right. The wind hardly affected his dark green cover. His branches contained much magik – the only Magik found on cré.
“Ohohohoho for sure that is the reason the dragons left – or until tonight we had thought hunted into extinction. I see now they were angry and hurt, disappointed in their children and no longer able to suffer their creations chosen ignorance.”
He turned his head up; it made his bark creak and groan.
“My dear child, Dragons Breath is what feeds the very core of our globe. It is the quickening from which all Magik is born. From the day the dragons vanished up until this very night, our Mother has laid dormant beneath the soil.”
I followed his gaze up to where the stars hung hidden behind the blitzing storm. What a magnificent show. Hundreds, no, thousands of icy flames ran along dark black clouds. My eyes caught the length of a fat bent assegai plunging into the arid soil. I could feel it recharge the earth, shooting jolts of life into my roots, feeding my life force.
I wiggled – as much as any young sapling could and Oupa laughed heartily.
“Do you feel it, my child? It’s the quickening. It’s filling every atom in your bark. Soon this orb will once again team with life and wonder as it once had.”
A large bolt pounded the ground, and the earth shuddered with glee. The white flash illuminated the field.
I rubbed my eyes, no! It couldn’t be; it must be the light and the excitement. I could have sworn out there in the distance close to the seven apple trees stood a… two legged?