PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Renewal 

In my garden,

winter’s debris raked away:  

there must be a death  

of fear-forged self —  only then

can resurrection bloom  

New eyes dawn like firefly glow

across blackened hill;  

I take my first steps, amnesia drenched

—  old name forgotten, my hands bare  

Come—lean into tomorrow’s kiss;  

trail sweet smoke across my lips,  

let the crackle of embers rise underfoot,  

breathe tender fragrance of falling ash  

Still—  

wound forgiveness with the mem'ries' scar,  

a single red feather drifting on dawn’s breeze;  

nothing tastes as sweet  

as ash reborn from phoenix’s womb