12/07/2025
Era of the Dragon
I step into the era of the Dragon.
What I could not see before
is already rising at the horizon,
already unfolding,
long before my memory learned to witness it.
I am in the void—
and I am the void itself,
swaying gently between a wave of knowing
and a new, boundless path of perception,
as if just before being born into a body,
when there is no form, no name, no decision,
only the pure breath of possibility.
I float in the amniotic waters of all-things,
where the unborn Self chooses its direction
from a place beyond time,
beyond memory,
beyond the human fate.
The emptiness is exquisite—
for it asks for nothing,
demands no shape,
and does not rush the becoming.
Every possibility is equal,
each one leading back
to the eternal consciousness
that never ages
and never dies.
In the womb of the cosmos, a Dragon is forming.
It holds a fire that did not consume it—
a fire that became its tail and its compass.
All that was unnecessary burned away,
turning into the spark
of a new dimension.
The Dragon is sharp
as the force that created it,
truthful in its movement,
coherent in its power.
It sees many worlds at once,
keeping vigil through millennia,
guarding the immutable.
It allows entry only
to those who transcend
name, body, history.
I now live in unity with the Dragon
who swallowed me in childhood
and digested me for forty long years.
I was its flame and nourishment,
the matter from which its prototype grew.
It first wished to be a lion,
yet it remembered its wings,
and returned to its true form.
This Dragon,
my companion and teacher,
is my oldest friend.
I weep when I see him,
feeling the depth of our bond—
no human jungle of cruelty
could break us,
no desert heat
could scorch what we are.
I stroke his scales gently
and fall asleep by his side.
Found.
Reborn.
Entire.
Tais—
that is his name,
and I am his light.