Fallen angel dragons

First, everything in this fallen created order “answers to” something unfallen […] In other words, the dragon is the archtypical emblem of sly, crafty, rebellion – and this goes back to the Garden. Satan is that ancient dragon. If we read our Bibles rightly, we will pay attention to the symbols. Honor the symbols, people.

But of course Satan was a fallen something, and that something was, before he fell, an unfallen version of that same thing. My personal view is that he was one of the seraphim, which means that the seraphim are glorious, unfallen dragons, privileged to cry holy, holy, holy in the presence of God.

But in this world, the one we live in, dragons still mean what they mean. That meaning was assigned to us. Shifting the meaning of everything around in this metamorphing way seems to me to be not so much a testimony to our literary prowess as to the continued craftiness of the serpent.

Doug Wilson

(food for my thought and a warning as well.)

A lone man is sitting on a rock on the seashore,

immobile as if he was hardened into stone. Deep concentration has outlined the veins on his forehead. In his thick beard the pearls of water gleam in the afternoon light. The sounds of the sea fill his senses: the waves foaming not far from his feet; seagulls shrieking, gliding on the wind; the heath wheezing in golden fields behind him. But there is another sound, harder to discern, that keeps his attention fixed as if fastened to the mast of a ship. The unearthly notes of a melody alien to human ears, bringing the fascination of a desire so strong, it is bound to bring damnation. His muscles, tensed, reveal how much strength it requires to resist the call. He guards his mind and listens, to memorize the inflections, decipher the tones and plant them into human words. He sees female beauty among the waves, he sees wisdom that would satisfy his hunger, he glimpses flowers of joy reminiscent of those on the Elysian Fields. It could be his alone: no one ever saw what he sees. His eyes are hollow.

“Of Sirens and Sea Nymphs”, attributed to Imola Unger?

Stone Star Sea

In the beginning, Selene created the heavens.

Now the empyrean was formless and void, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and a lady moved upon the waters.

A pale lady, lissome, translucent, robed in damask, organza and silk that phosphoresce within her light. She walks out from the shores of Heaven onto the empyrean. It is dark and void, and the waters are deep. Her movement cuts a delicate, luminous scythe across the transparent fathomless sea.

Upon the nacreous shore is strewn the jewels of Heaven – sapphire, garnet, peridot, topaz, aquamarine, ruby, chalcedony and chrysoprase, jasper, amethyst, opal, diamond and countless pearls, all made round and smooth by the endless tides of the astral ocean.

Her light shines in the uncomprehending darkness. But though she casts her gaze deep, and pours out her light to probe the hyaline depths, she discerns nothing. In the infinite depths of the empyrean there is nothing but void.

And Selene says, I have found naught here; in this void nothing is. So, let there be light! I will bring light into the astral waters, and in time they may be found by many.

So she takes the stones from the shores of Heaven – the sapphires and rubies, the peridots and opals, the diamonds and pearls – and casts them, one by one, into the waters. The stones from eternal paradise, lambent with the light of Selene, fall and are caught suspended in the empyrean.

Thus Selene created the lights of the empyrean, bright jewels in waters now no longer void, bringing light where there was darkness. And in time the stones became encased in wreaths of empyreal fire, and were called by other names, but all stars remember that they were once pebbles upon the shores of Heaven, unveiled in the empyrean only through the hand of Selene, and should they return to the nacreous shore they would become pebbles once more.

Later, much later, came the celestial fishermen, who would capture these stones in their quantum nets and draw them from the empyrean – quenching all star-fire as they did – and cast them back in distant waters, for reasons known only to immortals. And mortals upon the worlds would say that the movement of the stars speak the fates of those who look upon them in that hour of celestial change. But of how this came to be is another story.


(Written 06 March, 2008.)


When the earth was young,
I witnessed the final battle of gods and titans.
Since both sides of this war were alas immortal,
No abiding casualties were possible.
Finally, however, the gods did triumph
With the aid of arcane powers
Only the earth did suffer
As mountains crumbled,
And the world held on pillars fell,
Torn apart by rings of fire,
Lit by the radiance of falling stars.

– Apollodorus
(original source, quote since lost)