the other side of the phoenix

here, skies may be painted blue, gray or as rainbows
in this heavenly place where the phoenix flies free

coming home, to something different each time
healing teardrops wet his feathers sadly, they melt

into the ashes of his past, those memories will too soon
be forgotten, for the pain of them would be too great

skies reddened now with his passing, he leaves
regret combined with rejoicing greet a new future

he returns, plunging earthbound, in a simple flourish
of colored plumage, matching the sky filled with hope



the other side of the phoenix
[2007.3.11...a]
Written for the Writer's Cramp