The Phoenix - Philosophical Vignettes

It was upon a quiet nightAs graying clouds raced past the moon. A sage and pupil made their wayInto a deep and darkened wood. Among a sea of silent pines,They traveled the uncertain trail. But after wandering the night,They finally settled for rest. They found a grot and set up campAnd made a fire to warm their limbs. But as they rested by the flamesAnd thought about their trying day, A mysterious glowing lightAppeared before the weary twain. It shone unlike the sun or stars;It had a strange and tempered hue. But as the source of light remainedUnseen among the glistening fog, The master and his pupil choseTo make their way towards the light. To both the travelers’ surprise,They came upon a phoenix nest. The phoenix sat there purple-plumedAnd covered in a coat of fire. It lay among the glowing rocksWhere it had made what seemed its nest. “What purpose has this beast insideThese woods, master,” the boy questioned. “Does he not live among the sandsAnd scorching heat of desert climes?” “Such birds are born in many worldsAnd live out many lives,” said the sage. “For, that bright bird dies many times—Many times more than you’d believe.” “How painful then,” the student said,“To have to die so many times.” The master turned towards the boy,“It’s also reborn many times. “Its death is not well understood,But even less is its rebirth. “For, one’s death is not what men fear,”The master said, “They fear rebirth.” But as the sage and student stoodDiscoursing by the creature’s nest, It suddenly opened its wings,And flew into the starry sky. Image by Dong Bi Hua David B. Gosselin is a poet, translator, writer, and researcher in Montreal, Canada. He is Editor-in-Chief of The Chained Muse. His epic in blank verse, Athena, appears in the latest issue of New Lyre Magazine. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ageofmuses.substack.com/subscribe