Friday, September 28, 2012

The Phoenix...

He walks through the yellow streets
alone, for him the world is empty
gasping for air, holding his breath
he dives, escaping the commotion
off the cliff, where his self had echoed
only minutes before
he dives, away from himself 
dodging his own voice
into free fall...
His fingers, his toes, all spread out
every inch of him feels the silent wind
and as he falls, he hears them whispering
for the last time
before he drowns...
And then a tiny splash before the river takes him in
His outstretched arms, 
his white torso and his round toes,
and everything around him becomes too quiet
and in that place, he knows what he is,
as his body cools down and his spirit starts burning 
hotter than fire, in blue flames
he sees it all, as he loses himself in the current
away from the shore, slowly drowning
And for a second, he actually considers death
easy as it is, but when he looks at his arms, 
and he looks at his toes,
and he thinks of all that he is, in this second
as every bit of him feels revived,
for the first time, he feels alive.
And he comes up, in all his glory,
more beautiful than he has ever been.
The phoenix, rising from his own ashes, 
brighter than ever before!

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