Home: Poetry: Andrew Miller: The Phoenix

The phoenix, from it's waking slumber startled,
Takes flight into the deepening blackness of nightfall
To tour the vile darkness of descending twilight
And answer the siren song of a lonely, wordless call...

With spices in beak it starts it's newest trek to Arabia
Tnd meets a silent turtle dove who joins him in flight
And together they wing through mountain and vale
To share a dream laced with omens of a future bright...

Love began to blossom between the sacred dove and phoenix
Where only memories of pain and hurt had come before
And something beyond words flowered between their souls,
The end of an era and the brilliant opening of a door...

And as they were perched upon their newfound tree of hope
They peered through this misty door into a bright and golden future
And saw something so magical that they both grew frightened
And the turle dove flew off until distance clouded her every feature...

The phoenix was left alone to finish his flight to the lost lands
To find his final resting place among the mountains and hills,
And there he made his lonely sullen nest of fragrant spices,
A final tombstone to a life of sunken promise and broken will...

The phoenix takes a last look around for he knows his time is now so very near
And with a sigh he is consumed by a raging pillar of smoke and fire
And there the soot falls from the broken limbs of the tree of misplaced hope
Where the phoenix rises anew from the ashes of his funeral pyre...

- Andrew Miller
(3/29?/97 - 4/4/97)

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