Legend of the Phoenix

By: Jocelyn Alvarez-Recio

Through the ashes of rebirth she flies,

Her vast red wings give her flight in the skies.

The wind beneath her iridescent feathers grow,

The gust carrying her farther to a distant shore.

Her talons are dull, worn by age,

But the eyes of her nature still remain.

Glassy with tears and wisdom she climbs

Above the mountains and into the clouds.

As her final descent comes near,

She looks on with no worries or fear.

Through her 78 years she has learned much and lived well,

Waiting to be reborn from the ashes of life.

This poem is a lament to my Grandmother Raquel, whose life was a massive rollercoaster of medical problems. She is the Phoenix, to call her a cat would be an insult. She will forever live on in the hearts of her survivors, reborn from the tears and pain of those who knew her in life and to those who will recognize her in death.

February 12, 1929 - January 15, 2008