The Song of the Firebird
The wren has flown
and danced herself
into the Firebird.
Returning to the cosmic egg
white and light filled,
the spinning vortex
churns a great wind
to flame the burning fire,
releasing the energy
of creation and transformation.
The egg cracks.
From its delicate shell
emerges the most beautiful
Firebird.
The wren is transformed
with golden flame feathers,
flecks of the sun glinting across her back.
Her black jewelled eyes offer such depth
that the knowledge of life itself
is reflected within them.
She stretches her wings
full force and takes her first
flight of freedom,
soaring as she never soared before
from wren to phoenix
Firebird.
She circles over the great hall
and sees her human skin
laughing with her ancestors
in Sessrumnir.
Frejya's hall is filled
with love and light, as is fitting for a
great mother, for a grandmother.
Her beauty is immeasurable.
The river runs outside
bringing more guests,
an endless flow.
Ancestors come and go
greeting, living, laughing
as life goes on in the face
of death,
on both sides of the veil.
The dark horse rears,
mane flaming in hoof dust;
Paskadi sees the Firebird land
in all her glory
and knows now that he can
return across the mountains
to his home in the North.
His work here is done.
SCM2018
December