A poemcast by Karimah Hassan
May we carry our fire without fear,
and guard what the world forgets to honour.
RAISED BY DRAGONS
I was raised by dragons.
Not the ones you slay in fairy tales,
the ones who stand guard over memory.
The ones who teach you to burn cleanly.
In Wales, dragons watched from rooftops.
In Mulan, they followed the girl who fought.
In me, they stirred before I ever picked up a brush.
I was never scared of dragons.
I wanted to be one.
DRAGON:
A dragon is not chaos.
It is life force.
It is kundalini, wrapped in a body.
It is the protector of things too sacred to name.
The word dragon comes from the Greek drákōn-
to stare.
To meet what’s terrifying with clarity.
Not to run, but to witness.
To look fear in the eye and say:
I see you.
You do not get to name me.
MUSING
As a child, I loved Mulan.
A girl who didn’t wait to be saved.
Who fought beside a dragon,
not against it.
Years later, I saw dragons in Bali
long parades with dancers moving as one body, breathing together.
In Japan, they curled across ceilings like ink in prayer.
And I started wondering:
Why are we taught to fear them?
In Chinese culture, the dragon is auspicious.
In yoga, it’s the serpent, spiral, spine, source.
So why are we warned?
Because it’s powerful?
Because it can’t be controlled?
In my paintings, dragons live in the outlines
in the gold I use to mark power,
in the parts of the canvas I refuse to explain.
Being raised by dragons means I don’t flinch.
I protect.
I create from the fire.
PROMPT
Journal: What protected you before you knew how to protect yourself?
THANK YOU
Thank you to the dragons who raised us,
who protected in reverence, and taught us how to carry fire.
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