The Phoenix King
To the tower
The rogue watcher
With skylight eyes he climbs high
Passing his fears and the lies of civilization.
How I wish he had my comforts
Of warmed Herbs
And Turkish pillows
And Lanterns rumbling with the purrs of lions.
How I wish I could walk with him
Through portraits long-forgotten
To get lost in love
Found by her brooks
Of magical kingdoms, fern-laden.
But he wills to climb higher
Than the rest of us wingless-beasts
His eyes gaze out into the sea
Perked to warn of the coming storm
Those that wait below his feet.
He is not the Broken King
He is the Robin’s egg of Spring
A seed sprouting wings of lace and crystal blue.
He has soaked up the Star shine
He collects every drop of dew
And scatters these diamonds from his pencil-tower
Like birdseed for pigeons
Granting every falling wish
-Its truth.