Come, you feared and longed for bird of rebirth,
I invite you to execute your sacred ritual
in and with my soul…
Come burn away this flame,
squelch the fire,
transmute this organic amalgam of earthly baseness
into cosmic ashes,
burn the fundamental building block of lies,
make room for the magical bird
that soars impelled like a comet in love
with infinity on wings that are
a kaleidoscope of jeweled dawns and sunsets
beyond the reach of time
or the confining holds of space…

I do as you say:
I lay myself on the burning desert sands
under the scorching sun;
watch the buzzards hover in circles,
-their dance of death-
see them approach to check for the stench
of putrefaction every so often,
knowing that soon they will make their final approach
when the last light of time and memory is still warm,
to sever the vessel that connects you to known time,
the vessel of oblivion will be open then,
the feared unknown trembling you will feel
as it spills out the guts of your soul
on the desert’s sand
to nourish the creatures of a past
that will soon die
that will soon rest in the arms of Lethe.

I lay under the endless starless night
of total silence and wait,
hoping without certainty
for an unknown light of redemption;
listening to the concert of the insect orchestra
in the windless air hum their insane song
and wait for the feared yet longed for death
of the known, the remembered,
stored in Mnemosyne’s caskets,
the living death we live and to which we must all die
in order to be reborn
as a phoenix, out of the ashes of oblivion
as a glorious new dawn
after the extinction of the universe,
for god’s word to shake the universe from slumber
back into light.

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