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
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