The damaged still arises from the ash
as a Phoenix, invincible and fiery
To reap vengeance upon those who caused her most recent demise?
Surely, not – the Phoenix needs renewal, not revenge!
When she rises, chameleon shimmering wings outstretched,
High above the trampled ground,
Blinding those – who would dare to stare –
at her presence, now reborn of method profound.
When they whispered behind her back as she was burning,
She felt, for a moment the searing of her flesh, and
Harmony with the clamor of voices and thoughts, even Earth’s turning.
Could these people ever really see or understand?
As she pondered the prior death knells,
She soared high into the upper atmosphere –
and she saw much more than the celestial sphere.
She encountered the vastness of the mind
Which, never shaken, was inclined
To search and find
Her own kind …
Then, she continued to follow the breeze and rise above
The stifling din of the noisy, motley crowd
On the ground
Messy and loud
Far too round
To ignorance, avowed
By frailty, bound
Fortunate, yet not proud
Saved, but not found
Would they ever see their potential allowed?
How many more times must this cycle go ‘round?
As these questions plagued her mind,
The Phoenix remembered another time,
a time before this one, or even the last
a period unwritten, unlike the last dozen or so pasts,
when humanity did not separate from nature so fast,
Before the invention of computers, cars, or masts,
At the time when the environment was different and human species, vast.
What of these prehistoric people and their time?
Was there a missing link that would clarify the rhyme?
As she probed deeper into that collective mind,
To discover the secrets so long enshrined
In the pit of men’s souls, she thought she sensed an answer.
The Phoenix considered the plight
Of man, so trapped in his little flight
Journeying through in human form
On impressive though caging sphere
Soul fumbling to make sense of mortal fear
With mistakes & regrets always bringing up the rear
Never quite sure of the similarity between far and near
And confused as to the difference between foreign and “dear”
Man must have care in this journey, should his aims be sublime.
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Please critique my poetry; I am not bashful. Thanks for your feedback! Melissa ;-)