Golden, glistening in moonlight
Caressed by living orange flame
That licks her body lovingly
And sends little sparks
Sliding from her like tiny droplets of water.
She walks through the fire, naked.
The flames do not eat new flesh
What remains of her old body floats away
Dancing soot, into the night, jet black.
She is a phoenix
Rising from the ashes of her own death
But her new form is not younger than her old.
She has carried her wisdom with her.
A child of the past passes
As she recognises the strength in her own self.
Parts of her have hardened
In body and in mind, in heart and in soul,
That will never soften again.
And other parts of her have only grown in beauty.
Courage, an inner glow, is the fuel that lights the fire.
A burning, all consuming passion.
A raging inferno that calls to her to fight,
And never be passive again.
New heros light her way from the embers.
Women whose own stars
Shine brightly through the abyss,
On which she is so perilously perched.
Their passion matches her own
They have voices that will endure no falsely laid replica
Of which she has no intention to give.
Heat and flame die into blackness
Around her but not within.
She greets the universe with fresh sight
And allow its presence to sink within her skin
She wields inside herself a sword of justice
To be used sparingly
In defense of what she cares for.
Of flesh and mind
She becomes the whole she never was
And sets out to prove
The warrior blood within her.
