Rebirth

Photo Credit: Amber Caldeira Model: Mary Rogers Glowczwskie

One day the earth opened and below my feet was a world suffocated in ash. Feeling the despair of Persephone, wondering if I was compromised of everything hidden — the contents of Pandora’s Box — I closed my eyes and allowed the dark embers to swallow me whole.

I felt the molten clay break away and as I shook myself free, I felt — expansive — wings aching to take flight. I rose, cautious at first, testing the feathers one by one. Sucking in my breath, I leapt. I felt the fire catch the wind and exhaled.

So, there I was — gliding, wind and sky kissing my body — moving over, around, under and through each feather until I could soar no more. I decided to perch on an ancient oak as the fire wouldn’t lick the sturdy branch. The Druids made sure of that years ago. And as I looked around the oak grove, I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection pond — the looking glass.

Curious, I shot down to the ground for a closer inspection. I was mesmerized. The orange, white, blue, and yellow flashes of light. I am a phoenix risen from the catacombs of ash. A tear slid down my cheek merging with the pond.

The droplet connected with the water and began to change form and take shape. A beautiful apparition appeared before me and in a crystal voice carrying a full range of notes, similar to a choir, I heard, “This, My Beloved, is your true form. Born of blood, forged in fire. Remember who you are. Because this, my darling, this is your rebirth,”

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Mary Rogers Glowczwskie

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 | 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗