I am Destroyed to be Remade: A Poem by Bryan

I am destroyed to be remade.
I am silenced so I may speak the tongues of the world
My cloak was torn from my back
My sword cleft through it's wielder
My cauldron up-turned to stifle my breath
The rays of the sun made to pierce my brow
The Earth beneath my feet made to rise above and crush me under its mound.

There was no land I was of but made to be of all lands.
There was no clan to partake of but made to partake in all clans.
I was not who and what I knew or remembered.
No longer could I see myself.
Now I am but reflections of the gods,
Unseen in isolation,
But active in every motive of life.

No darkened tomb of stillness does rest my soul.
Yet does the light of fiery consumption forge a new soul unto a new life
In utter exposure to be reformed yet again.
The chosen seek no escape from the cleansing flames of transformation,
But do embrace it with eyes full of tears in passionate remembrance.

Curved and leafed be the blades that free us from dying stems.
Gold and Silver lights release us and awaken us to life eternal and it's magic without end.
At the dawn of the worlds there is no sound,
Still and sudden is the revealing of shadows.
As a cry weather from horror or ecstasy is caught in the throat,
So the sound of awakening to the song of the sun is.
Silver light giving way to the golden flames,
You have found me broken and exposed in beauty to take up my calling along side you.

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