Wrote this about a year ago...
You were ashes by the time I became fire,
shadows, when I was sunlight.
You were the corpse and I was the Phoenix,
you were caged and I, a wild, searching thing,
lost without your eagle's gaze.
Your wings were broken when mine were finally
strong enough to carry me through the air,
your feathers clipped too close to offer warmth,
and it finally made sense why you were so cold, so unkind.
You were fearless and I was afraid,
you were old and wise and I,
too young and arrogant to understand.
You pushed me from a cliff before I was ready,
and that day I hated you for the broken ribs it gave me.
But today I am grateful, for now, when I fall,
the pain doesn't hurt so much anymore.
You gave me your teaching with an iron fist,
gave me your sharp eyes while you became blind.
I grew, strong and sure while you faded from sight,
but I was too free to notice your withering limbs.
Now, you lay there, like old dust settling down
after a long fall from a crumbling ceiling.
And I watch you as you watch me, and finally, you smile.
Yet, after all these years of wanting your approval,
I feel hollow, empty, not proud like I should.
Because it hurts, knowing that while I became an unmovable mountain,
you were a bag of bones, crumbling, collapsing,
like a rock slide ready to crush me.
But I am still standing, still strong, still burning.
For you may be ashes, but I am fire,
I am sunlight, and you, the shadows creasing my cheekbones.
I am a Phoenix, rising from your corpse.
You are forever tethered to the earth, and I, a wild, lost thing,
searching for your eagle's gaze in my broken reflection.