All dragons fly. In the old days, people could see dragons — both
in the sky and walking the earth. Dragons live inside of stones, exist in
artworks, and sleep in caves to avoid detection. When they leave a
piece of artwork, the paper or canvas that contains them
disintegrates, freeing the dragons from their slumber.

In the past, many dragons were slain. The slayers’ deeds were well
celebrated — rationalists helping to rid the world of myth and magic.
But fortunately some of the dragons survived. They have learned to
make detection difficult — but not impossible. They have adopted
furtive guises for this purpose. Dragons are not sneaky — they always
tell the truth when confronted; they are just cautious. No sense inviting
danger. For if they are detected, it hampers the business they are
conducting. The person who observes them becomes fixed on the
reality of the moment, defining the physical presence of the dragon.
The mind is no longer receptive to suggestion.

I personally saw a dragon fly over my head one day. It was a clear
day, with many clouds in the sky. The transition from summer to
autumn — cool, but still dominated by warm winds. As soon as the
dragon realized he was being observed (they are very sensitive, you
know), he immediately began to transform into a cloud. They change
like chameleons, blending in with their surroundings. Because I was

looking in the right spot at the right time, he stopped his transformation mid-process and retained most of his dragon form, having only enough time to blur his general outline. It was not enough to prevent my seeing him, or at least seeing enough of him to realize that he was actually there. I briefly turned my eyes away from that spot in the sky to look at the road on which I was driving my car. This gave him enough time to complete his transformation.

He was now cloaked as one of those clouds, which have no discernible shape. Sort of like jazz filling the sky. You know there is a melody somewhere, but it has been disassembled and scattered with additional notes added, making the actual structure difficult to recognize. I continued driving, but my thoughts were focused on the dragon, proving the need for their concealment. My mind was no longer open to suggestion.

Evidence that dragons exist can still be found today, though it is getting more difficult to find — and it’s just as well that I am speaking of it now. Our thoughts help to keep the dragons alive. Have you ever felt a warm or hot wind blow across your face, not knowing where the breeze originates? It is the dragons’ breath blowing imagination and dreams into your soul — proof that dragons do exist. But dreams and imagination are getting more difficult to find today — proof of the dragons’ disappearance. The more we talk of dragons and live out the inspiration of dreams and imagination that they instill in us, the longer they will remain with us.