Sunrise, Sunset

There are no more dragons,
so they say,
and we are all the poorer for it,
come what may.
What wondrous flight
they might have taken,
by day or night,
on some far isle alight,
to lay down eggs, begetting
life of power and might,
with fiery roar
upon that distant shore.
The ancients toiled
in fear and strife,
eyeing magic in the sky,
a daily challenge to their life,
with majesty at wing,
lustrous green and gold,
but not for you and I, they sing,
there are no more dragons,
we are told.
How sad for modern man,
facing the sunset of an
evolutionary scheme,
or perhaps, it is
simply in God’s plan
that we don’t grandly dream.