Before the Phoenix the man stood;
Her flames burst in orange glows
Her neck bent with weariness’ burden
“Do the legends dream?”, She said,
“They dream of the mortal world,
with their lingering Empires
and heating desert’s sand.”
“We have unwary dreams,
we dread not the final oblivion,
unlike mortals that fear the empty void.
I fear to be always remembered
and by many Phoenixes embodied.
Aye, I am just one Phoenix,
and only I have been constantly reborn.”
When she finished only cinders remained
And a smothering smoke column
Went astray in my mind.
“Ah, Phoenix”, I answered,
not to her but the one yet to reborn,
“If you knew how your horror
in our mortal minds have pierced
and with a new facade transfigured;
as I fear to be forgotten shattered,
in many models I find just despair,
and I can just deny: It is not I. It is not I.”
Author notes
Written January 27th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Philosophers of Anything! by NSYancey.
350 points, ended May 7, 2006, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
deeply reflective
This is beautiful, a thoughtful reflection on what it is to be remembered and forgotten, and the promise (or lie) of rebirth. It is beautiful with a slight twinge of poignancy. Very good, very nice write. Thank you for entering my contest, and the best of luck to you!
Nick -
Very good poem João, with great usage of words. I read it twice to assimilate the philosophy you show here, and yes, I guess the man is right
Well done!
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