Kavyakankshini...bewitching words spun with spindles of thought and quicksilver yarn...: Elements

11.06.2008

Elements


 

 

Crafted out of ashes,

Sleek, grey and alluring

Shades of ebony and white

Long and strong

Swift and agile

Tampered with fire

And baptized by embers

Her claws were still burning

While her plummet was being modeled

Fiery golden eyes brimmed with purple patience

Nothingness of past lives had wizened her...

As the wind romanced and cajoled her virgin plumage

To lift off and soar in the skies

Her world, her ambit and her destiny

One final look

Out of the smoke and into the heavens

There she flew

Pulsating with heat

Her newly molten bones

Hallowed with energy

Clutched the winds

And thrust upon the skies

Her wings dusted with ashes...

One ultimate screech of victory

Over the mountains, over the plains

Over the seas, over the lakes

Conquering fears and complexes

Vanquishing doubts and piercing through convictions

She did what she knew best

She flew and she flew

Till memories of her burning self were extinguished

One moment she saw the Dnieper

The other moment she plunged

To drown the memories of lifetimes....

She rose to meet a new destiny

She soared and glided past elevated truths

She transcended the spheres of knowledge

She gained what she lost

And lost what she gained

An arduous journey she took...

She flew and she flew

Till she smelt the familiar

The real and the certain

Her plumage caught fire

Mid flight again

Death caught up with her

Burning and flying

Flying and burning

She flapped incessantly

Hoping to make it

Make it to the Baikal

She wanted to live

She wanted to extinguish the fire

Burning within her soul

Strange are the desires of the soul

To burn and be born

To be born to burn

The flame scorching her heart

Had other desires

Slowly scattering ashes

A being was being unmade

Bit by bit losing herself

Ego and all

She was burning

Burning bright

And flying right

Through her death

Her golden eyes

Reflected the deep Baikal

Now calm as the blues of Baikal

The purple passion faded out

Till the orange hues licked them

Slowly circling the mammoth lake

Scattering ashes she fell from the skies

Like a comet or a star maybe

But content that she won’t be born again

For the winds and water had devoured her past

Remnants of all her deeds and lifetimes

She made it

She broke the curse...

Of the phoenix....

To be born again out of ashes....

 

 

 

 

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