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The Great Phoenix 

“The end is near!”, no animal would believe the ravens. A great prophecy about some big and all-powerful creature descending upon the woods would be passed from generation to generation.

One day, when Eagle woke up and looked at the sky, there was something odd: it was red. He flew out of his nest and realized that the forest was empty. He flew above the trees, thinking it could be the day the ravens were talking about. He flew all the way up to the precipice no one ever got close to, and finally saw it. It was bigger than any other animal It had wings with feathers that looked as strong as the rocks that built up the mountains. They were red, as the most intense flames ever seen, with a brighter yellow than that of the sun.

“The Phoenix” said Eagle. It was supposed to be an ancient bird, wiser than all the animals together. Stronger than a lion, rhino or any animal that ever inhabited the Earth. Rumors said that every once in awhile it would come to judge, to determine which animals were worthy of inhabiting the Earth. He was the Protector.

Animals were constantly fighting each other, and they didn’t have had peace for a while.

Eagle looked up and saw how the Phoenix spat fire into the air and all around. But there was something weird, the fire didn’t burn the trees.

There was a line of animals, all waiting to be judged by the Phoenix. If an animal had behave well, the Phoenix would spit his fire over the animal, and it would leave unharmed. However, if it had behave badly, the fire would burn them down to the bones. Phoenix was the judge, the fire was the hammer, and death or life would be the sentence.

Eagle flew down and landed at the end of the line. He wondered if it was fair that the decision of someone to live or die should be taken only by one. He asked himself why wouldn’t the Phoenix give a second chance. But lastly, he asked himself if he would survive. He was trying to remember if he had done something bad, and hopefully something so good that could spare him. He feared for all his friends he knew wouldn’t make it. But mostly, he feared all the things he would left unfinished.

The line became shorter and shorter. While some left crying, others never left.

“Come closer”, Phoenix said.

“Dear Phoenix, I know I hurt so many and helped so little,” said the Eagle. “but it was because of my instincts, I’m a natural predator. I must kill to survive.”

“I know that. But ask yourself...how many times did you kill for hunger and how many times for amusement?”

“I…”

“I don’t take pleasure in burning the unworthy. But I know that in order for this world to become better, it must burn and be born again.”

The Phoenix spat fire over Eagle. As he closed his eyes, he understood: everyday was on its own a second chance.

Let me lie

Let me freeze again

Till death do we part

And we are on a fast road there

Let me die

Let me live

For death is only the beginning

And I will rise again

 ■■■■■

And they wanted to heal,

But the requests were riddled 

In disguises,

With delusions of grandeur,

And hopes of great riches and fantasies,

And so the healer likened the journey to the deep sea diver,

Who falls into the water with arms opened wide,

And forges his way to the depths of the ocean,

Deeper, and deeper,

He passes the wreckage of lost ships, and human waste

Of days past,

And at times must close his eyes to the remembrance

Of pain too haunting,

Because he knows the journey to reach his "treasure",

his "core",

Is a merciless path.

■■■■■

And when he reaches the ocean floor, 

He does not stop,

Because he knows what lies beneath is what he must face,

And so he begins to use the tools he learned,

And finally, after chipping away for months and years,

he uncovers

The worth of his soul,

With great joy, he retrieves the lost and precious gems

Of his existence,

And he begins his hopeful journey to the surface,

But his suffering does not end,

Because the road up, 

Even more wrought with turmoil as he endures

The caustic resentment

From those with no knowledge,

And he is made to relive the loss of his soul treasure 

Over and over,

Time and again the relentless visions of pain and torment,

That satiate the hunger of blindfolded eyes and sullen, hopeless spirits,

Hungry for the taste of their own lost piece of life,

Lost in their lust for material gain.

¤

They cannot see his treasure is within,

The lack of "sight" for the divinity of his excavation

Into the "earth" within himself,

A common ignorance of human existence,

To be unaware of what one sees as 

"Separate",

"Derilict",

"Different",

"Ungodly".

And his plight becomes even worse than he could have ever imagined.

■■■■■■

But when he reaches the surface of the water,

This vortex of pure love for all humanity,

Created by and through his own wounds,

Lifts him over the water,

And only then 

He revels in the love meant for him from the beginning.

The hard work that could only be done by him.

No pill,

No man,

Woman,

Dollar amount,

Could have created it.

So you say you would like to heal?

■■■■■■

.....

☆☆☆

In the early morning sun I travel eastward,

My shadow follows every step

And I fear nothing,

The comfort of its presence,

Like the warmth of the sun's rays upon my skin,

It makes no sound except for the echo of my smiles

Seen only in its darkened gloom,

And as the minutes of the daytime draw to dusk 

It begins to hover over my then weary form,

And grows to the heights of which my soul cannot touch,

And the wind brushes my face,

And my hair becomes coarse with the sand of the desert,

Dry and brittle,

Broken leaves dancing feverishly off-beat

To the rumble of doom.

☆

The sun...once lighting my way, 

Now becomes as a thief in the night,

As it burns me with no fire, 

And the shadow so befriended in the day's beginnings,

Swallows me whole under the moonlight, 

And no one hears me cry, or plead for some small shread of hope,

And no mercy knows of my name, and no dream finds me,

The very beating of my heart has been forgotten by any living being,

But my eyes are singed and soon opened wide

Like a shattered pane of glass upon jagged rock

To see my heart upon the dusty earth.

And as the quill dips itself into the well of blood 

That pools at the edges of each pulse,

It writes the word...

☆

      ..."A-S-H-E-S"

☆☆☆

Copyright 2013

...

Let her dream
Of flying,
Let her soar through the sky.
Crimson feathers
Brush the clouds,
And paint them
A delicate pink.

Let the fire
Give her life,
Let the wind
Carry her soul.
But one day she must wake up,
For a bird may never fly
With broken wings.