The first dragons were fireflies,
Flickering motes of breath made light —
And then a moment of insight:
Great creatures of death must arise
(Like half-seen floating seeds of sun
Grown winged, clawed, fanged, and enormous,
Lungs furnace hot and vaporous),
Monsters from which most men run.
Not all. The dragon was lazy,
And slept for decades in hazy
Caves, dreaming of nothing men dreamed.
Its scales and half-lidded eyes gleamed.
The wisest men approached and stroked
Its face with love. It never woke.
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