A sage and pupil found themselves
Before the foot of Dragon Mount.
They readied themselves for the trek
Across its dark and snowy grots.
Tilting their heads, they watched fog
Winding around the ancient spires.
Like a slumbering dragon’s breath,
It wrapped around each silent peak.
“The legend says that many tried
And lost their lives,” declared the boy.
Squinting their eyes, they raised their heads
And gazed upon the darkling heights.
The master turned to him and said,
“But have they crossed its cliffs and chasms?”
“And have they dared to make the climb
Up Dragon Mountain’s emerald peaks?”
“The people said that only fools
Would dare such things,” replied the boy.
The sage looked on and calmly gazed
Upon the snowy mountaintops.
“True knowledge will always be far
For those afraid to climb its peaks.”
The master spoke and then began
To make the long and winding trek.
Featured in Issue Two of New Lyre Magazine
Unless a seed die and fall into the earth, it produces no fruit. (close, but no ” “) I’ve found that anything worthwhile requires intense labor and ofttimes wounds, whether to the body or most often the soul. It’s not a lot of fun to make this journey, but at the end you have something lasting–sometimes.