Dusting herself off, rising from the ashes of her past, she is not new, oh no;
She is all that she was, and anything she wants to be.
She carries her flights and falls, the broken wings nursed,
memories of the feathers she lost along the way.
They don’t hold her back, oh no,
they are the buffeting winds she braves, the mountains she soars over.
Dusting herself off, rising from the ashes, the phoenix becomes whole, flying into the sun.
This edit is a dedication to the phoenix within us.