Phoenix

When the indigo blanket of night
unfolds so softly and deep
over low silky clouds of lavender
apricot and the palest green
faint twinklings of starlight signal
new horizons of hope
I rise and grip my compass

Across this darkening desert
waves of hot sand swirl me
high above those statued saguaro
guardians of that wasteland
Cool breezes now whispering stories
laughter and music and dancing
I hear the ever green beckon

Near a cold glassy lake in a forest
where grasses are dewy and sweet
friends and companions are waiting
eager to share in our crossings
Sparkling eyes around the campfire
anchored beneath a wheeling sky
I sleep by this fire again

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Author: Mary Jo Malo

Christian, mother, grandmother, and poet of occasional worth.

9 thoughts on “Phoenix”

  1. “high above those statued saguaro guardians of that wasteland Cool breezes now whispering stories laughter and music and dancing I hear the ever green beckon”

    Profound symbolism, Mary Jo. You speak of a hero’s journey and I hear the call in the “laughter and music and dancing.” The compass and the need to explore and respond resonates in your words. Brilliant!!

    Liked by 1 person

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