What a strange place for a dragon to rest.
Too small for it’s home, too remote for it’s nest.
A small mound of sand that is far out to sea,
Why here, why now, oh, what can it be?
The dragon’s wings crack as he flies overhead,
As he circles this mound from the sea bed.
The sand is quite fresh, so who put it there?
It wasn’t the dragon – this isn’t his lair.
Yet the dragon does settle upon this damp sand,
Seemingly ‘placed’ by some unknown hand,
But, within minutes, the dragon’s up and away,
To the next mound of sand that is ten miles away.
For the dragon to journey from point A to B
He needs some ‘stepping stones’, you see.
He’s aware of his journey, where he wants to go,
But he takes one step at a time, and things nice and slow.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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