If I had held one rotting breath
And God had kept me living—
If fire had sucked my oxygen,
A phoenix formulating,
Frothing like the mushrooms I envisioned—
Then ten pale months have passed, and now I breathe.
Now every moment I’m reborn—
With every flushing heartbeat—
A buzzing peace in every cell,
Like wings of steam completing—
High on every thought that isn’t poison,
Afloat on every cloud spread on the earth.
But as I lean against the stove
The air is teapot feathers.
A magic tea enhanced me here,
A borrowed fighting spirit,
Clashing with the rivers dark as pine trees,
But not as luminous, my lender’s eyes.
But just as frightening, just as strange,
Unique in the naďve—
And now I move with streaming breath
A misty phoenix rising.
Author notes
This poem is just how I feel today. I really feel so good--like I can finally breathe.
It also includes thanks to a couple of the friends that helped me. One's less subtle than the other, that would be the pheonix-ness....
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Yays!
I'm so glad that you are feeling better! And lookie! The poem mentions me!!! =]
See you at Venturing tonight!
Much Love
~Megan
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