Darkness engulfs you.
It is caving in on you.
The heaviness smothers you.
And in the darkest of darks
The blackest of blacks
Poof!
The phoenix bursts into flame.
And when you thought things couldn’t get any darker,
All hope is lost; all hope is gone.
Burnt, extinguished, charred.
All that’s left is ash.
Dull, gray soot in a heap on the floor.
The soot settles in the somber air.
And just when you think there will be no end to this despair;
That the dank and heavy darkness will overcome you,
The ashes stir.
And subtly they begin to take shape, a form.
A phoenix is reborn.
Out of the ash, a phoenix is reborn.
And in your darkest dark of nights
Your blackest black of storms
A brand new phoenix is reborn
He comes to you, he sheds a tear
It heals your wounds, your heart, your fear.
2 comments:
I really like that one. I don't know how I'd missed that it was on your blog since we've talked about it for so long. I love the Phoenix for its great symbolism...which you wrote about beautifully.
Thanks Bex...you're too sweet. This was for the annual Thackeray Grandchildren Writing Assignment. The theme was "You must not mistake passing local cloud cover for general darkness." I'd sat on the idea for this poem for a long time, but felt it would be perfect for the book this year...so it finally came out.
Post a Comment