myth of the myth

 
do you think the Phoenix  
does not mourn the loss
of all that came before  
flaming feathers  
an agony of memory
as they burn to cinders
 
remembering...
 
remembering...
 
& do you not believe  
they remember  
everything
each moment
beautiful & broken
in those previous days
 
aching...
 
choking...
 
keening their pain
into smoke-filled skies
lungs thick with ash
voice hoarse & ragged
echoing...echoing...echoing
into haunted silence  
 
whispering...
 
agony...
 
do you imagine  
rebirth erases recollection  
nullifies all yearning
everything known & learned
is that how you picture their rising  
new day...fresh slate
 
first breath...
 
next death...
 
consider instead
they take every thought
every hurt & hopeful feeling
death...rebirth...everything in between  
into a never ending blaze of being
opening eyes with full knowledge  
 
ancient...
 
newborn...
 
how haunting must their existence be
when death...
brings no relief  
only another cycle
through which they live...love...die
in perpetuity  
 
always...
 
remembering...
 
haunting...