A poem

I saw something grow
from the debris,
the remains of you and me,
scarlet phoenix
from those ashes born
in turbulent times,

In the forest wind stirs,
deep woods
hold the secrets of self,
time to open the lid
on all the secrets we keep,
to find space for her
books on my shelf,

The sun rises
over dark days
we count our blessings
in many ways,
old paths no longer serve
to take us deeper
in wisdoms’ winding ways,

Those who pay
prices we cannot afford
applaud the new,
something grew from ash
something scarlet
blood fed,
which had been thought dead,

Wind stirs the ashes
as ember flares into life
my love, my wife
we are renewed in trial
we survived,
phoenix born we flew.

C25