Phoenix

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You sparkled as you flew

high above me

a tail of fire,

comet like,

Greens and Golds.

Cold fire flew from you wings,

Hot fire your breath.

Feathers of glass or crystal

tied with silver wire

Shreak of sound

high register like a whistle…

Then a shrinking bloom of fire

like time-lapse in reverse

your feathers folding in

wormhole like

creating a single golden glowing egg

Once created, to hatch and grow again.

 

phoenix

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Apologies to real writers out there. I drew this then decided to write a very short story to go with it…forgive me!

The Phoenix rose into the air above the flames,  it’s wings beat them back and swirled huge sparks around it. The shock waves from its flight blew branches off the trees, then tiles off the roof just across the way from where the bird had cracked the golden shell of her egg.

In the bedroom of the house a young girl sat brushing her hair before she got into bed. A small nightlight with a pink shade cast a gentle glow in the room. Two windows let in pale starlight, and for a moment the girl thought she saw a shooting star streaking across the sky.

The Phoenix had seen the steady light from the bedroom. It was young and craved the warm heat that it had left behind. It had been born in the bonfire that the girls neighbour had lit earlier in the day, not knowing that an old Phoenix had laid her egg there before fluttering off to die in the forest.

Phoenix can survive without fire, but when they are chicks they need warm light to dry out their feathers which stay damp from the egg for a long time. The light from the room was just right so beating her wings she flitted across the street.

The girl opened her window to allow cool air into the room and snuggled down under the covers. As she lay there she thought she heard the scrabbling of her cats claws at the door. But the noise seemed to be coming from her bedside table. Quietly she lifted the blankets and looked, directly into the glinting eye of the Phoenix!

No ….she must be dreaming  she thought. Then she saw the bird had carefully curved its wings around the top of the night light.  It raised its head so that its neck was straight and beak pointed up to the ceiling.

Now it was bathing in the heat and light, gaining strength with each minute. The girl lay still, she didn’t want to breath. She could see through the wings, they were almost transparent now, the bird was starting to fade……

“Don’t go!” she whispered, but it was too late. The Phoenix  had become a sparkling, soaring mass of light, weightless, magical, etherial.

Quietly it flowed through the air like liquid gold and silver. …out through the window and on towards the rising moon….