Wings of Fire, of Illness

Touched by fire I fall like Icarus,
My wings melting as the fire spreads.
My brain a foggy heaven,
Misting in a gelatin broth,
Fatigued but burning inside,
The shout from my integrity,
As I do not want your pity,
Falling past you, falling through your arms
As you try to understand.

Touched by fire, I heat the wind
And spread my wings upside down.
My hopes an icon of burning, a pillar
Of crimson light. Opening before
You showing the beauty of my soul
Still within my grasp,
Still building from the basic blocks
Of my childhood.
Blocks that built towers of power.

Touched by fire, I dance
Like the phoenix, rising above
Climbing, soaring, breathing.
Orange feathers, yellow feathers,
New ideas, new prices, new cures,
Grasping hands that circle in a form
A bloom, a purity, an honest clasp,
A heritage of standing tall,
A woman warrior, rending illness.

Ann WJ White, whiteawj@mac.com
@June27,2016 Ann’s Eyes