Bird In the Fire

 

 

Bird In The Fire

I was placed by the fire pit.
My father said I must learn to tend things.
He said this as he chopped at the rough stones.
From my squatted view I saw a gray movement.
A bird revealed itself through ashes.
It rose into a transition through a swift flutter
A magnitude of gold dust hovered.
My mother whispered, it is the phoenix,
but my eyes knew it was a golden pheasant.
My father said it was something to be eaten
in its hopeless position,
but it sang a beautiful song
and turned into the colors of the sun.
Already the air had transformed it
to a transparent sheen of yellow and red.
I did not see a phoenix.
It was too real.
I did not see a bird, weakened into food.
It was too strong.
It was the spirit of my future rising.
Not the great dreams of my mother.
Not the practical demands of my father.
It did not intend to stay.
It scratched a map into my palm
and touched a wing to my face.
It was my future headed upward
to blend into the sun.
It was the gold of each new day
in the shimmer of one soul,
measuring sun steps pace for pace.

 

Reviews

[hoyt]

Very good write!
"It scratched a map into my palm
and touched a wing to my face.
It was my future headed upward
to blend into the sun."
loved these lines... all the poem. A beautifully formed image of hope and self realization brought to life! Well done!

[Jola]

Like the Phoenix reborn from the ashes ... so work on me this poem ... stimulating my imagination ... well-written poem ... I like it..
Greetings Jola

[Mark]

What a flawless demonstration of what it is that makes a child! A dab of practicality and duty, a smidge of mysticism and wishfulness, and a large dose of that something undefinable, uncapturable, neither phoenix nor pheasant, which They see briefly and remember dimly, but She yet sees in all its majesty and potential! Will She act on it's directives, or become yet another They?

[Jibey]

A beautiful allegory - taking the legend and turning it into something personal and liberating... the narrower views of your parents were well summed up, with their limited perspective from which your heart broke free.... Beautifull crafted... a pleasure to read

[W.k.kortas]

The mythical juxtaposed with the material, beautiful songs and birds to be eaten, mothers and fathers, husbands and wives. I'd say putting that much of life in thirty lines or so is pretty impressive.

[Glo]

Simply lovely.