The Phoenix Egg
As the sky blackened and the dark tides tugged at hearts and heavy heads, the tallest palm on the farthest mountain was burning. Far below in the world of men and warning, only the wise and wyrd raised their eyes to its pinnacle.
Witches ringed the swaying spectacle chanting invocation in a whorl of flying hair and supple motion. Their bare footsteps and wild twirling encircled the magnificent palm, this dance of transformation a thousand years of longing in the making. Each of the 13 felt the sharp turn in their bellies and the familiar lurch in their hearts as they knew what they could no longer deny.
Lightning struck like an alarm, prickling bare skin. Tears fell on the disturbed earth, their crystal glinting. The moon blazed in her Scorpio cape of stars. She whispered the transforming spell as snakes and scorpions tumbled from her mouth, a shedding all of her own.
Under deepest sky and brightest stars, the fledgling phoenix spluttered into life. Spices and giant feathers tumbled smoking from palm leaves still aflame. Its clawed feet, unsteady as it swayed atop the smouldering pyre, began to rake the ash.
Clouds of cinnamon and myrhh, laudanum and frankincense began to tendril towards aching human hearts, ready beyond time to burn all the old houses down. A youngling watched it all from her open window and yearned for the day she would dance beneath the flames. Told her sleeping familiar that she had no fear of being chosen. Wished as hard as she could for her deepest desires to arrive.
In the morning the phoenix's egg lay outside her door. Fashioned from fragrant ash and resin, still bearing the claw marks of the fledgling. She lifted it to her ear and felt the invocation in her bones. Placed it on her altar for the days yet to reveal its purpose. Made a promise that she would not break, ever. Sealed it with a kiss and a knowing smile.
The spell cast again. The luminaries at the gates. The baby blue eyed phoenix bathing fresh feathers on the mountain. Birds gather in hope as old women scry the dawn sky. The earth twists towards its future as distant bells chime time. The moon opens her arms to change.
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2022