The Quickening

Winter's whispers ride the winds

A storm awakens in the north

It comes to claim all those who've sinned

All discontent it does call forth

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It stirs the pot and blurs the line

As trauma, loss and unmet needs

With winter's essence yet combine

What bubbles up is dark indeed

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Distil the pain into fine whine

What brews is chill, and brooding too

Whip up the rain, attain moonshine

In unknown lands the blizzard grew

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And now it comes for he who stands

Before a river frozen still

The man with vows binding his hands

With names and oaths guiding his will

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He waits, back straight, to meet the chill

The storm that slowly closer comes

The prophecy he will fulfil

The world is silent, save the drums

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And silent still it stayed for days

All sound and fury in one place

No sound nor sign escaped the haze

The blur of white concealed all trace

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And when at last the snow did stop

And life had come out of its daze

The jaws of all who saw did drop

An egg of frost was yet ablaze

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It flared within and cracked the ice

But just as fast, the thing refroze

A grip so tight, white knuckled vice

Despite his fetters, his heart glows

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"Know your betters boy," it spits

And in response there comes a screech

A searing sound that soundly splits

Midwinter's heart with sacred speech

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A mighty crack which echoes back

A blinding light, a wave of heat

And then, as if to fill the lack

A phoenix singing to the beat

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When vision clears the man's alone

The phoenix circles high above

His arms and legs are chained to stone

His only hope lies in self-love

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He must accept what he's long known

These chains are of his own design

He is but reaping what he's sown

It's he who's chosen to consign

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His life force to a frozen throne

How scary must one's shadow be

To cause a man to court a crone

And how much would it cost to see

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Right through illusion, to the heart

The place where insight is set free

The heart of things where lives the art

Of seeing true the sacred tree

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The roots and fruits of which are famed

Because they're claimed to be the key

To knowledge of the self untamed

And access to the ancient sea

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Where live those of forgotten lore

And those who have not yet been named

What lies beneath the ocean floor

Of what are we deeply ashamed

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By digging deep our hero finds

The secret drives, the hope that binds

The ways in which himself he blinds

The part he plays in what unwinds

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How he perpetuates the chain

How he allows his fears to reign

How he yet orchestrates his pain

How he alone derails the train

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Around the twist he goes again

He tries resist, but tries in vain

The answer must be in his ken

If only he knew how or when

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Around the twist he goes again

If he's the one who holds the pen

Then surely he can change the game

Can flip the script, reforge the frame

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In inner silence he takes aim

His arrow bears the sacred flame

He shoots his shot and hits his mark

The darkness never was so stark

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As on this night when faith prevailed

When villainy was yet unveiled

Insight became a dancing spark

Which sought a ground to which to arc

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To sacred soil the lightning leapt

And ever since the secret's kept

Awake all those who till then slept

Through countless days, for in doubt crept

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And blessedly it made its home

Within my heart resides the poem

The one that urges me to roam

This wide wild world of ours to comb

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There is a change upon the wind

It was foretold within the tome

Of one who was twice-born thrice-skinned

Who walks the roads that lead to Rome

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The phoenix song heralds his birth

And falling rain kisses the earth

That into which the breath was pressed

When this mortal the heavens blessed

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For every wave must have its crest

And every night must have its morn

For every change must find its zest

And every storm must itself mourn

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For when the thunder sounds the horn

It does much more than merely warn

Those on the ground of nature's scorn

It calls the end to which it's sworn

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It calls out to the dragonborn

To ride the waves and find the eye

To seek the contract which was torn

To penetrate into the I

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The dragon's wings might span the sky

But its true strength only few spy

With magic flame it fuses two

Antagonistic points of view

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Fact and fiction become one

The fusion is nonetheless true

Summer's turn becomes the sun

Refracted through the morning dew

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The rainbow and the world are one

The son and daughter of the sun

From winter's frost the spring is spun

So despair not: for warmth has won!