Phoenix

Phoenix

In the very very old times
When the world was a newborn child
The Phoenix flew in iridescent splendour -
Red and gold and feather-plumed.

The Sun shone down on flashing wing,
Saw red-shine glory, golden splendour,
And cried, “Phoenix, you are mine!
For as long as I burn, you shall shine!”

The Phoenix flew for one thousand years,
In crimson glory and gold-shine splendour.
But as the years wore on its strength died down –
Splendid no more, glorious no more, a shadow of its newborn self.

So the Phoenix flew from the Western desert,
To the East where the Sun goes down.
There, on a beach-tree’s nodding head,
It built a nest of sweet cinnamon bark,
Lined with heavy-scented myrrh.
And in the nest it sat, and sang,
“Sun, I am yours! Make me shine as you!”

The Sun heard the Phoenix’s cry,
Chased the clouds from the sky.
In golden glory the Sun shone out,
Filling the Phoenix with red-shine splendour,
‘Til it soared to the sky,
Wings spread in glorious renewal.

The Phoenix flew for one thousand years,
In crimson glory and gold-shine splendour.
But as the years wore on its strength died down –
Splendid no more, glorious no more, a shadow of its newborn self.

So the Phoenix flew from the Western desert,
To the East where the Sun goes down.
There, on a beach-tree’s nodding head,
It built a nest of sweet cinnamon bark,
Lined with heavy-scented myrrh.
And in the nest it sat, and sang,
“Sun, I am yours! Make me shine as you!”

The Sun heard the Phoenix’s cry,
Chased the clouds from the sky.
In golden glory the Sun shone out,
Filling the Phoenix with red-shine splendour,
‘Til it soared to the sky,
Wings spread in glorious renewal.

The Phoenix flew for one thousand years…