It’s mid-spring in Columbus, a bit chilly at times, rainy, windy, then sunny and calm. The power of the earth is evident. It’s a power we respect, the beauty of which we cherish. It could be called dragon power.

                  Seven Dragons

         Seven dragons cross the sky

         their breath is hot against the wind

         seven dragons, serpents all

         calling out across the universe

         made of thunder, made of rain

         and lightning at their feet.

         Dragons gold against the sun

         seven shadows cool the land

         the farmer pauses at his plow

         the merchant sighs amidst his reckonings.

         Fire, thunder, water, air

         the dragons speak, the power passes

         all the earth is sanctified

         seven dragons cross the sky.