"There must be a death for
there to be a resurrection;
the demise of something
in part or the whole of:
that portion of one's being.
Only then shall we see
with eyes new as morning's first light.
Only then shall we have
reinvented ourselves:
allow ourselves to take the first steps
laden with amnesia
of the former, forgotten self.
Come and cease to be
and let today bow to the
kiss of tomorrow's promise.
Tread upon the petals of yesterday
and smell the fragrance that
lingers, that solitary spectre,
olfactory memory that words cannot outline.
Wound your forgiveness with the scar of remembrance.
Nothing is as sweet to the lips
than the ashes strewn from the rising phoenix."
Copyright Frederick Kesner
Poem by Frederick Kesner
