Isaiah 27:1 (NIV)
In that day, the Lord will punish with his sword, his fierce, great and powerful sword, Leviathan the gliding serpent, Leviathan the coiling serpent; he will slay the monster of the sea.
Some humans say that dragon blood has magical power–immortality? Clear-sightedness? A certain scaly invulnerability. Or..the opposite might be true. Dragon blood is toxic, dangerous, even deadly.
One can only imagine how either assumption would lead to consequences for dragons in their already complicated relationship with humans.
But what did it mean to the dragon mother, torn and bleeding from self-injury? Why had she turned upon her own flesh and what did it mean for the child?
The she-goat was all sensible nurse. She swaddled the baby and wrapped him close to the source of his nourishment so he could nurse as she took care of his wounded mother.
She had brought an extra supply of her own honey mixed yoghurt for the child. She filled clever oilskin bowl that had cradled the yogurt with water from the clear pool at the mouth of the dragon’s lair, a layer she herself had helped to make more hospitable to the needs of a tiny human. She ripped a strip of muslin with her sharp teeth and dipped it into the pool then she used her mouth to clumsily upend the water skin and pour the water over the fresh wounds. She nuzzled the wounds very delicately with the damp muslin and finally applied a poultice of frankincense, myrrh and thyme to the cleaned cuts.
There was a tragic kindness in her ministrations.
Everyone has dragons in their history. We are ubiquitous in the minds of men. Every culture has a dragon mythology. Even cultures which would be far too cold to support reptiles of our size and climate needs have memories of dragons.
Only in modern times have things become ridiculously obscured (when they were simple to untangle if you could live a thousand years).
Dinosaur is just another name for dragon. Let us face it–it is an epithet. We, ancient race of monarchs, reduced to brute beasts? Mindless and dull…
Leave it to humans to think they can figure things out to a point of control only to find they have lost the heart of the story. And without the heart, the rest becomes a silly fiction.