Diary entry:
March 5, 2001
I had a dream last night. The first one I can remember in a long time. I do not know if it was drug induced or just an overactive imagination. Maybe both. It was a fantastic fairy tale dream. One like I have never experienced before. I was back in time. I was alone. Part of, but set apart from my dream, like I was only there to watch. I am hoping to recapture it. I do not know how this will turn out. Maybe a poem, maybe a story, maybe if I am lucky; a nice blending of the two. Maybe it will be worth keeping. Maybe it won't be worth reading even if I do keep it, but it may give me something to sit back and reflect upon when I am too old or tired to do little else. For now, I think I will stick to blaming the drugs, just in case, but I did wake up with words pounding relentlessly in my head ... Of Phoenix Dreams ... I am aware.
I am floating. Surrounded by a dark sky. The stars twinkle. Tiny spots of light set into a velvet drape; so far away, yet seemingly close enough to set my fingertips to. I hear nothing except my own breathing and steady heartbeat. Small veils pass through me. Wisps of clouds. How is this possible? I look at my fingers. They are not there. I am without shape or form, yet still whole. Set free.
I hear a voice unlike any other I have heard before. Low, chanting, singing. Words I do not understand. They pull at me. Drawing me to them as if they were alive. I feel myself glide easily through the night on silent wings. To answer a call. As I draw nearer I understand. I look down at the man who calls me. He is familiar, yet strangely unknown. I am curious. Why does one I do not know summon me here? I watch this man in his flowing robes. He creates circles in the smoke from his fire. The circles become larger as they rise up into the air. They pass so close to me that I can smell the burning wood and incense. Sandalwood and jasmine. It heats my blood; makes me want to get closer. Closer. He knows my name. But, it is not my name. He calls me. I must answer. He is insistent with his circles in the smoke.
I sink down closer to him. I see his face. It is old and wise with knowledge burning behind hooded eyes. Many secrets this one holds. I thought I had lost him. It has been so long since last he used his smoke to call the name even I have forgotten. His magic calls me even closer. Closer to the fragrant fire. I am caught. The fire comes alive and reaches up its tendrils to me. I am trapped inside the dancing flames; at one with the glowing embers. Burning. It angers me now, that this man thinks to confine me in such a manner. He sees me. As my strength gathers, he continues his song. I do not understand and beckon to him. "You summon me, yet keep me thus bound?"
He answers in a voice that is as old as time. I hear the voice inside myself. I hear it surrounding me. I hear it in the crack of my imprisoning flames. "There is much to be done yet by you. Born in fire you are. Live in fire you shall. I alone command thee. If it is not my will done, I shall harken thee back to me, and your death in these embers shall be by my hand."
Rebellion and resentment build inside me. What manner of sorcerer does he believe himself to be that he might control me? The anger chokes me and I recede for a moment. I control it; and start to grow stronger. With each breath now my flames grow stronger; higher into the inky night sky. I can bear it no longer. I tower myself over the now small magician.
He screams my name into the now wild wind created by my wings of flames. I will not hear him. In return, my defiant cry pierces the night. In my cry, I rise up against my captor; carrying the living flames with me. I am free. I rise high into the sky; lighting all the ground below me. He has failed. My sorcerer. I watch as he flings open his robes and falls to the ground. He stares at the ashes of his once living coals and begins to cry. I feel no remorse. I am free. I circle above him as his tears wash the embers of my birth. I circle and with a contented sigh, I leave him.
I watch the ground below me in my shadow. It is not a shadow of darkness, but of light, which lights the land as I pass. Cutting into the dark with a warm glow. I feel such energy and freedom, as if I had never been truly alive until this moment. I fly high just to feel the cooling wind. I sing out my happiness and it returns to me as an echo from the mountain peaks. I dip low over the mountain pool just to admire my reflection. I tilt my head. This is not the body I know. I see myself in my own eyes; tall and proud and strong. I am changed. My hair flows and has covered all of me. Become the wings of flames which now carry me. I stretch the tip of one wing down into the water. I watch the steam rise from the surface and laugh. The water cannot extinguish my fire. I am beautiful. I am the Phoenix. Unleashed and unbound. Set free. My song of triumph meets the rising sun. We are the same, this star and I. A raging glory. I slip easily into the sun; fading my light into it. I shall rest here.
I awake. I hear the chariot wheels of the Lady Moon approaching; drawing her cloak of darkness over the land. I let myself fall gently away from the sun. As I fall I unfurl my wings. Light forgoes me as I glide silently down. A violent roar interrupt my waking thoughts. It is a frightening sound. One of anger; of rage. I fly low, seeking the source of such a powerful sound. I find it.
It is magnificent. I pull up sharply and suspend myself so that I might watch the scene being played out below. Flashes of the day's last light are caught and reflected from emerald scales. The snap of teeth and crimson blood flows freely. The Dragon is being slain. A frenzy of movement, the beat of leathered wings. The flash of tail, as quick as a serpent's strike. He is glorious; even as he dies. In his fury he rises up. I see the golden glint of light from the blade of a sword just before it finds its mark in the Dragon's heart. He screams in pain and anger, yet it is not enough to sustain him. He falls. I can feel no remorse for such a beautiful creature.
My eyes seek out the victor, the wielder of the sword. I remember tales of shining knights atop bedecked mounts. Surely, I would find one such as that standing proudly over such noble prey. I see nothing. Then a sob reveals him. It is not a sound of victory. It is a broken sound; of loss, of mourning. I shall circle closer. To glimpse the bold one who would feel what I cannot.
I find two knights. One has fallen. His armor laid open by the Dragon. His mount senses the Master's passing and stays close to his side. The second knight is bent to weep over his fallen comrade. But why? I circle closer. The knight slowly removes his comrade's helmet. I know the face beneath it. I have seen those eyes looking back at me countless times. I alight softly, making no sound. To be close to the fallen one whom I know and remember with love.
I can hear the cries of the victorious knight. Such heartbreak, such grief. Broken, murmured words. A prayer? No. Just an asking for a return. I tilt my head as I listen to his plea. It is the voice of a woman. "Please, Father, please come back to us. Your lands are safe. The Dragon is slain. You cannot leave us here like this."
There is no answer. I know that there would not be. The plea turns into no more than broken sobs. I would know this knight. He who would brandish so sure a sword against so mighty a foe, yet who would speak in the voice of a woman. I tilt my head and the flamed feathers crack. I call to the knight in my gentlest voice; no more than the coo of a dove, yet it is heard. The knight turns from the fallen one and stands. I am now the one watched. I feel the anger rise from the knight in waves of heat as he moves towards me. The knight reaches up to remove his helmet. As the covering comes away, flames fall upon the knights shoulders and I behold the face I know to be trapped inside myself. I look into eyes that I once looked through. I see all that I once was and listen now to she that was once me. Angry words that ring with pain. "How dare you come to me now? When I am this? How dare you bring your tears now when they cannot save him? How could you not know that you were needed? Do not weep for our Father now. Weep now for those left behind. They will need your healing. I keep nothing of you. I keep nothing of you for myself. Away from me."
As this last is said, the knight musters all her remaining strength to throw at me her crested helmet. She is gone. Vanished; with my Father, into the gathering mist.
I am confused. I was not aware of the diamond tears falling from me. I am alone. Loss and forbidden remorse now wash over me like a smothering sea. I am enraged. I scream out my torment as I rise up in a fiery burst. Flaming wings scorching the earth mercilessly. Shrill cries echoing back to me, finally, my own pain. I ascend higher. I grow stronger. Stronger in my pain than even my sun, which is calling me home now to rest. I will not go. I rise higher. I cry out with every surge of fiery wing. Higher.
Is it true that my tears will heal? Too late now for one. Perhaps not so for others. I must do what I can. My tears fall from me as shooting stars. I watch myself falling away. Take of me. Find the glowing embers, so that you may be whole. I watch myself falling away; one tear at a time, until I am nothing ...
I am floating. Surrounded by a dark sky. The stars twinkle. Tiny spots of light set into a velvet drape; so far away, yet seemingly close enough to set my fingertips to. I hear nothing except my own breathing and steady heartbeat. Small veils pass through me. Wisps of clouds. How is this possible? I look at my fingers. They are not there. I am without shape or form, yet still whole. Set free.
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