In the First Age when the stars still sang, A blazing ember fell from heaven’s height. It struck the ancient grove where shadows hang, And bloomed a living heart of crimson light. A tiny wyrm with scales of teal and gold, Pressed the heart against his chest and stayed. He did not feast as dragons might of old, But chose the light — and love was there to stay. Crimson Scale, Emerald Wing, Guardian of the golden leaves we sing. Heart of starlight, blood-red flame, Bound forever to this forest’s name. Through winters, battles, kingdoms rise and fall, He watched and kept the forest strong and bright. His wings grew broad like hammered autumn sun, The crimson heart still burning through the night. Now the leaves are turning, calling me away, The heart grows heavy with the debts I’ve paid… Come closer, little one, my grandson dear, See how the crimson pulses strong and clear. Take this heart, young wing, and guard the song, Pass the flame when your own time comes along. Crimson Scale… Emerald Wing… [Music and Lyrics by Jennifer Leigh Nelson © 2026 Cajora Creations, LLC. All rights reserved.]
