i sail through this sullen atmosphere,
flames lapping at my wings
as an angry ocean pounds the pebbled beach.
i spiral downward slowly,
thought of melodramatic moments
carousing my mind
wondering what i will find
beneath the flames of eternity.
sighing, i embrace completely
the red and orange heat,
collapsing into the ashes.
i gather these ashes up,
using the witching broom.
a dream i become…
memories of the past.
as i shape myself together,
influences appear here and there.
i am my grandmothers,
loving and caring.
i am my grandfathers,
daring and strong.
i flap my wings, slowly…
then again
and again
creating a vortex free of flames
i soar upward
away from the orange and red which
previously consumed my life,
my soul,
my heart.
i rise.
newborn.
pregnant with hope.
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