“Where the Phoenix Learns to Breathe” I have stood where the last light fell, Where the year closed its iron door, Where the bell of the ending knelt And tolled what I was before. I watched my name turn into smoke, Heard the night call it mine, And still I breathed when the silence spoke In a tongue of ash and time. For endings lie, though they sound like truth, And fire remembers what death forgets. I survived the end, though the end knew me, I still stand in the flame, but I am free. I burn, but I am not undone, I am not lost in what I’ve become. Let the fire take what it may claim, I keep my breath, I keep my name. I walk the heat where the seeds are pressed Into soil that has known the knife, Planting hope in a scorched caress, Not demanding the shape of life. I do not ask what the harvest brings, Nor swear to the dawn’s design, I sow because the living thing Still answers this heart of mine. For faith is not in the promised sight, But the hand that plants in the burning night. I survived the end, though the end knew me, I still stand in the flame, but I am free. I burn, but I am not undone, I am not lost in what I’ve become. Let the fire take what it may claim, I keep my breath, I keep my name. My language is scar and unguarded breath, Not the numbness that mercy feigns. I do not dress my pain as death, Nor soften its honest stain. I speak in truth, in marrow and bone, In wounds that still can feel. For silence kills what fire alone Was trying to heal. If I linger where the dark feels kind, It is not to disappear. Some safe places hold the firelight And leave the edges clear. I know the weight of another flame, And the cost of standing near. To touch is not to be claimed, Nor erased by what I feel. I survived the end, though the end knew me, I still stand in the flame, but I am free. I burn, but I am not undone, I am not lost in what I’ve become. Let the fire take what it may claim, I keep my breath, I keep my name. I choose the ache that proves I live, The road that does not numb. For meaning grows where we forgive The man we were becoming. My scars are open, not concealed, They sing of where I’ve been. I am not whole because I healed, But because I let love in. So if you see me in the fire’s glow, And feel the heat the distance brings, Know this truth, and hold it slow: I rise, but still have wings.
