Phoenix

October 9, 2011
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The Phoenix. Beautiful and colorful with paper wings.

It rests upon shelf for someone to explore its mind, and body, and face

For the phoenix’s body contains truth, wisdom, and adventure.

Each paper feather taking you to a new time and place.

A new world waits with every gentle flap of its wings.

Creation and destruction, life and death, time and space.

The mind is the creation, thoughts, and ideas of the master who would proficiently craft such a beautiful thing.

Not all is well. As the phoenix cannot fly it merely flaps on the shelf when the fire comes like a lace.

It continues to flap but it doesn’t move. Its colors are fading and its worlds are slowly burning away.

Its wings turn black and slowly fly away, feather by feather, piece by piece, flying away like an ace.

It is engulfed and cannot escape.

It still flutters constantly trying to escape it fiery case.

It is in ashes now, but do not fret for the phoenix’s power cannot be destroyed.

It will move but not be erased.

And then from the ashes it has come back.

The Phoenix. Beautiful and colorful with paper wings. It has come back into place.





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