Phoenix Rising Again

I burnt myself on a funeral pyre so often only to rise and melt my wings on ascent Then I tried Odysseus’ underworld instead but Ariadne’s thread did not glow in the dark When my Trojan horse stopped at the Styx the stamp in my passport refused passage to an inner Self immolated at the stakes of bewitched destiny spelled in its charcoal Ashes and heated smoke screens surrendered At gun point from an armed barrel I revolved reincarnation showed no mercy nor fortune Jesus might have died on the cross but mine was too difficult to bear and Judas kept calling The wheel of life had no spokes and no centre the rim lip continued to fail the kind kiss of life as much as I tried a rectangular peg in a round whole I could not square the circuit like a circus clown in frivolous garments shredded to ragged attire even the Buddha’s loin cloth slipped from my waist Wasted I counted a trajectory of celestial promise and came to realized that Phoenix needed a comet for a torched body and mind have to settle before they can fly high above and narrate their own story As wax waned and polish refused to stick on demand ember of incendiary destruction warranted new flight once freezing and fighting rested in smouldering flames 23rd March 2021