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Waiting


Cynus

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Waiting

 

Fire rises, cresting the hill of time.

I wait, but it is not unpleasant.

Is it not better that the sunrise lingers?

That beauty, in all its array of colors,

May be extended and enjoyed,

For what each individual ray of light,

Enriches the whole experience.

 

My phoenix rises, he crests the hill of time.

I wait, but I am not impatient.

I am content that beauty lingers.

For I see his complex weave of colors,

Each one in turn have I enjoyed,

For each individual flame of his light,

Enriches my experience.




I wrote this poem during my most recent relationship. His favorite mythical creature was the phoenix, and I took to calling him that. I was intensely in love with him over the course of our time together, and I saw him in everything, and the rising sun was certainly no exception to that. 

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