Slowly, walking over the bones of my past, there is an ache in my belly that no food could fill.  I feel I should stay here among the bones, sitting in the rain of my regrets.  I sit for an eternity, but the bones do not come back to life, they do not change, the ache remains.  In this graveyard of lost hopes, and dreams destroyed by ignorance, I count the bones over and over, thinking one day this effort will redeem the mistakes I have made.  Sometimes I  see the sun in the distance, birds happily flying around, but I do not deserve this, the remorse is a weight too heavy to bear.  I should only stay and count the bones, and one day someone will see that I am sorry, they will lift me away and the ache will vanish.  But this day never comes.  I open my eyes and see the sun is calling me still after all these years, and so I finally open my own wings, I say one last goodbye and fly away from that place.  These sorrows cannot be mended by guilt, but they can be transformed by hope, and this is something I can embrace, a healing ripple transpires.  To stay with regret is to sink with it, to rise above this worry that one is the sum of their crimes, this is to fly with golden wings into the sunset, ever-reaching for the glistening destiny that awaits the ones who set themselves free.

2 thoughts on “Phoenix

  1. That is absolutely and beautifully written, Clover. Thank you for sharing such a sacred transformation with such eloquence. I’m so happy to see you blossoming with the lightness of love creativity. Sending big love and hugs.

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