The Phoenix Poem by Martin Moore

THE PHOENIX
He sees his faint reflection in dark water lochs
Magical mirrored puddles on a wet winter road
His disfigured face amongst the autumn debris mocks
From its sub-aquatic ultimate abode
In the obscure light at the blackened woodland verge
Darting with an awe inspiring azure flash
A startled jay and my unseen inner eye converge
And glimpse its flamboyant flight from ash to ash
A long dormant ash divest of summer clothes
In sweet suspended nakedness, its trunk defaced
And draped in constricting ivy underwear, exposed
Strangling its host to death in its embrace
He, at once, forgets the ephemeral liquid loach
Lip-locked to the shattered glass of his life
He watches the counter clocks, beneath the stones encroach
The hapless, helpless victims in their strife
He recalls instead, a vivid yuletide memory
Ricocheting round the canyon of his brain
Puts to rest, the rolling regrets and fantasies
Takes action, breaks the chain-reaction, the chain
The stippled rays of sunlight through the early woodland mist
Reveal the intricate arachnoid silken web
The tangled visible nets surrounding him, resist
And focus on a focal point, the step
Where black water flows momentarily white
Bright bubbling froth above and below the drop
Resumes its path through the undergrowth, contrite
Amidst the noble fir and lofty larch tree tops
The parched conifers, brown blemishes on pale skin
Submerged and insignificant for now will rise
From the shadows of surrounding verdant kin
A phoenix rising from the ashes of demise.