The clocks stand still though time goes on,

frozen seconds, melting into the crevices of day.

Sunlight filters through the cracks of the night,

penetrating the darkness, the breaking of dawn.

 

Teardrops glisten off the sacred fingers;

calls of winged creatures on the limbs, their

anticipatory calls echo over these silent hills.

The teasing of the sun, peeking over the dark horizon.

 

Sparks ignite the sky,

a slow burn on amber tails.

enclosing a dim world of ash

in a tunnel of flame.

 

Phoenix rising, golden tendrils,

reaching for corners,

for infinite borders, creating

crisp, confident shadows in the wake of light.

 

Quickly now, onward and upward.

Meet the beams halfway;

cease your impatient calling.

Spread your tawny feathers to her copper and gold.

 

Her majestic plums light yours,

immersing you in glory only she bears.

But you feel it now, her satin embrace;

You are the Phoenix, transcendent and new.