Phoenix Poem by Michael Maxwell Steer

If the pure fire of prayer engulfs us - are we
other than what we were moments before?
If the certainty of love brings a sudden
rush of blood - are we someone new?

Are we no longer the person who had just
poured tea or taken our child to school
this morning - the same in whom a seed,
dormant for years, has suddenly flowered?

And will it always be like this?
Will we remain on this plateau,
live only in a sheet of flame,
feel love forever this intensely?

No, we are not of such durable mettle.
Yet this sudden new opening is like
passing a wall and stepping into
a glorious garden that drowns our senses.

In this standing instant we've come home
to ourselves, unimaginable minutes earlier,
and momentarily glimpsed being at one
with all existence - everywhere, and at all times.


Salisbury Quaker Meeting: : 6 September 1998