Now you, Old Dragon, come bubbling up
In mud and tatters of old clothes,
Writhing into this new life
As if you had a place here and now.
You speak in riddles of other people’s words
As if to make them sound and sense;
But I know you…you are that which grins
while I hear you grinding sharp teeth.
Some time has passed since I could be so fooled
By beasts who seem and seem and seem:
Look at my hands now; see them bloody
With the death of my own innocence.
Far from here in both place and time,
I made room for such beasts in my heart
But not for myself, whoever that was.
Now I know my own truth, my own claws.