I let you go
as ash falls away and
your Phoenix wings spread
in the colours of fire.
I let you go
as you taste smokeless
air as you dance,
curl, somersault
in the breeze.
I let you go
to beat your wings
to the drum of the Earth,
to swoop low
and hear
the rhythm of the trees.
I let you go
to watch your
reflection soar,
to gaze in the still
lake and
know your flames.
I let you go,
and then,
that day you come back,
I will open,
the hearth to your fire.
I love the smokiness of this, although you declare the “taste smokeless”. I love the way it spirals like the rekindling of an ember. I am on a Movement Medicine course about grief at the moment. It is called Ashes and Blossom. This resonates.
I imagined the Phoenix swirling and soaring a bit like smoke. Ashes and blossom is a wonderful name for your course. May you too reclaim your fire from those quiet ashes.