The Reincarnation of Dead Ashes (* Enjambment*)
by
Richard Reed Jr
copyright 03-17-2006
Age Rating: 7 to 127
In regal ceremonial, dead father's ashes
be embalmed, and laid to rest within a nest inside soft egg of myrrh, to wave away mortality for we so earthly bound. Thus Isis hand strikes glory blaze and finishes soul's transfer.
And from this hell the Phoenix rise from ashes cold and gray, Like an ancient broken pot did magically reassemble, from prior pieces of clay. Then his mythical soft wings began to tremble.
The sun slips out from cover
with a yawn. This Peacock bird now shake his wings
as if to shed, his olden gray, and golden meets the dawn, With furious flapping stretch he
wakes up from the dead.
His duty every thousand years,
through eternity, is to spread full wing to the shrine of the sunly god, to offer as begging groom, genuflecting on one knee, Gives the egg with ashes to the god with honorific nod.
Thus, his duty done this age, he flies
in clear blue skies, with his reward, to leave his worldly chains behind. A transcendental spirit, thus he does arise, as careless mist entwined with swamp but never there confined.
Thus, when he feels this incarnation end,
he once again descends, to build a new soft resting nest, to end and start again, the many funeral pyres, ashen heaps to some portends, Many suns to come and go, the seeds will grow to grain again.
For nothing stays forever
what it was, like master smithy melting, forging old to new, in universal workshop evolve old spirits without pause. Hunched over, Mother Nature toils in starry aureate hue.
And birth is change from what we were
and death a last decor, In some old form of yesteryear, a being left behind, To give us proof, the Phoenix flies and dies forever more, a tribute to man's built-in nature, his infinity of mind.
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you recommend or rate the work highly...
I was enchanted by the language here and by the images it conjured up in my imagination. You painted a wonderful word picture and scenes in the reader's mind. The poem had a dream-like quality that made me feel like I just awoke with these thoughts in my fuzzy brain, wanting to relive the dream, but finding only precious remnants that are fading. Great stuff, Richard.
Best Regards, Lyle
The pure spirit, having a God head, see my glory in all it's splendor, awaken my sleep, awaken this condor, free my soul and let it fly, to that paradise in the sky, ask me no question, I tell you no lies, were the Egyptians right, no body knows, Great write, good job, thanks,
Wow! I'm bowled over! I love all mythological stuff, like myths and creatures such as phoenixes and centaurs. I especially like phoenixes! And I totally love this poem! It's more of a glorious story put into a poetic format. Did I say that right? I think I did...
Once again, you dazzle me with your outstanding word choice! It's unbelievable, how you just slip in those wonderful words! Like aureate hue. Fantastic!!!! This is a masterpiece, I love it!!!
Yes, the infinity of mind! This is, oh, so true! I'm so sorry that no one understood this one, otherwise, I'm sure some one would have commented on it! The Egyptians tried for thousands of years to make sure that the soul elevated to the heavens, thus ensuring the continuity of the soul beyond our material world. Evidence of this is found in the many archaeological digs that pop up every once in a while. I love the way you told this story, very descriptive and mysteriously done. This is more of a story than a poem and as a story, it is high caliber and laden with awesome imagery! Great work, as usual, Richard!
Welcome !
