from the pile of ashes
the figure arose
in a Phoenix
like pose

his wings were blackened
by the fire's torch
the feathers bore the marks
of an inferno's scorch

forever he'd wear
the burn's scarring
as a reminder
of his marring

from the pile of ashes
the figure arose
in a Phoenix
like pose

on spread wings
in the heavens
he again soars
ascending above
the flame's
raging roars

his being flying free
a mythical flight
rising to cast off
the searing's blight

from the pile of ashes
the figure arose
in a Phoenix
like pose

I ask for peace
and You hold my hand.
I ask for mercy
and next to me You stand.
I ask for truth
and I drink from Your cup.
I ask for love
and You show up.

You say You are faithful
though I do not believe
for I ask for all these things
but You say You're all I need.

But when I picture peace
is it not Your hand in mine?
And when mercy is my desire
is it not a craving for Your time?
When truth is in question
do I not yearn for Your Word?
And when Love become the answer
is that not found in You, Lord?

You tell me You are faithful
as I begin to see
that all these things I long for
are all that You would be.

My teacher once asked
a short simple question.
She had asked,
"What do you want to be?"
Raised arms answered her query.
Open palms each belonging to excitable children.

Wide little eyes looked up at her.
Hands began to flail in the air...
Ever so hopeful of being chosen.
So that they could voice their aspirations.
So that they could begin to share.

One by one,
they each was given the opportunity.
Turn by turn,
boastful were some
while others spoke quiet and shyly.

Then the teacher stopped short.
Not before expressing her delight.
She was in awe of such young minds...
Having had such great wings
to eventually take flight.

Then she explained...
What she had initially meant.
Confused looks all around including me.
She rephrased the question,
"What kind of person...
Do you want to be?"

There was silence.
No arms shot up to meet the subject.
I don't recall having raised mine,
but I remember telling the teacher...
An answer (I was confident), she wouldn't expect.

I stood at my desk,
proud and tall...
And told the teacher
that I wished to be a person...
Well loved by all.

She smiled and I did too.
I felt it was a good answer.
She nodded to signal for me to take my seat again.
She paused before speaking,
and not a moment later.

She said,
"That would be nice.
To be loved by all.
But that's close to impossible.
A big wish for someone so small."

I had heard her words clearly...
However I didn't understand.
My brows furrowed...
And I was deep in thought...
Still I couldn't comprehend.

28 years later...
Here I sit,
looking back to that time in the past.
How time flies...
It simply ticked away...
All too fast.

Till just then I was still that boy...
Who tried hard to please.
I wanted to prove that it wasn't impossible.
You can be loved by everyone,
and you can do it with ease.

But now I have learnt.
Now I have found meaning
and understanding in my teacher's wisdom.
It took me a while but...
I know now...
That wishes and reality don't work in tandem.

You can choose to care and love,
everyone you see.
But to expect everyone to love you the same...
Is sheer
impossibility.