spirit writing

feiluan, the flying phoenix

jiangluan, descending phoenix

fuluan, support the phoenix

with deft swirls and unbidden motion across the ash of the dead

the forest of my mind dancing

the ocean in my veins pulsing

the desert of my heart shifting

the ten yama kings occupy the maze of my rebirth

testing and throwing ruin in my path

ever turning

heavy footfalls in the night

of damnation and salvation

quiet as a whisper

light as a feather

twists and turns like rope burns across naked flesh

my eyes closed as the brush sweeps on it’s own accord

the spirits moaning in tune with the clouds of ash drifting through the sky above

a nightingale sings

the baying of hounds

the buzz of flies feasting on the corpse of bitter regret

the moon full and pale casts ethereal light

reflected from the sun

purified by the mist and bothered not by drifting remains of life

blistered flesh and blood handprints

the brush an extension of inner turmoil


granted little solace

the phoenix breaks free of earthen shackles

a burst of flame

crackling flame meets soothing stream

vapor pours forth

the walls shift

serpentine movements

defy order, beguile sense


the spirits respun into the great wheel once more

slumping to weary knees

only to begin again tomorrow

until the end of time


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