She has come far,
Her footprints spiraling out,
In the sand and stones.
It is a pattern, a dance,
She twirled through alone.
A Puppet on her own.
That path has ended now.
The Phoenix lifts her high.
The Crossroad has been reached.
There by that stretch of sea.
There upon that sand and stone.
Her courage has set her free.
With a net, woven of broken strings,
She cast out high and hard.
And within that gossamer web, she caught a living star,
The Night Phoenix, the Herald of Dreams.
And as his wings spread wide, her feet lifted free,
The Puppet's voice, a muffled scream.
The Night Phoenix laughed as he soared.
The Puppet clutched her net, fearing to look down.
'Look not down, but up instead...'
Whispered the Night Phoenix.
'Look not down, but up instead...'
So echoed the voice of courage, in her heart and in her head.
The Puppet shivered, her fear a very real thing.
But beneath her, a heart, bright and warm,
A steady cadence kept. The Night Phoenix.
He was a beacon, a tenant point found.
Now, swallowing the fear gathered in her throat,
The Puppet opened her eyes, enraptured by the stars, so far from the ground.
The wind traced across her face, soft and warm, a mother's kiss.
Her fingers loosened, their grip upon the net.
That shimmery veil fluttered in the air, as if seeking to fly...
'Keep it close and safe...That net of yours. The strings of the past, a Heartwork veil.'
Night, the Phoenix said. 'For should a storm ever drive you down...'
'It is the Heart Strings that become your shelter, lifting you up, becoming your wings and sail.'
The Puppet, she, tucked that net away, tight to her chest.
Fear faded to a distant memory, courage lighted the way.
And for when it was all said and done, she, the Puppet...
Knew she had to look, not up but down...
To see the footprints of her path, pressed into the sand.
To see her history, her story, before she left this land.
Night felt the slight shifting on his back, saw the Puppet looking down.
Now was the time, for her to learn, to know and try...
With a rush of wings he tossed her up into the air.
The clouds parted and swirled, swallowing her in a rush.
Her muffled scream, stolen by the Albatross.
Night watched as she battled back the fear, courage washing over her in a gentle hush.
So through the clouds and stars she plunged, spinning with the wind.
'Now child,' Night spoke. 'Here and now is where it all begins...'
'Spread your wings and let your soul free...Try now...'
'I can't!' She cried. 'I am nothing but a Puppet with no soul or pride.'
'No.' Whispered the Phoenix, wise. 'A mask you wear, one now stripped away...'
'Others have seen you, free of the mask, shining bright. A Dreamer with no place to hide.'
And with those words, something shattered, the truth ringing out.
The heavy mask, the Puppet wore, the final lingering seeds of doubt.
Fell away. The Puppet was gone to breath no more...
In her place now glowed the Dreamer's Morph...With wings of cobalt, sea, and stars.
The Mask was broken, and she, this dark butterfly, spread her wings...
Reaching out her smile shining, touching many from afar.
Butterfly. Dragon. Faery. Angel.
One and all and all and one.
She, the Dreamer's Morph, could become anything she dreamed.
Her course, by her constellations, charted.
Night, the Phoenix had shown her how to fly, now it was up to her to show the way.
A voice high and sweet rose from the sea, Marianna of Fathoms Deep, breached, waiting to get a new adventure started.
'Of wings and words and dancing milkweed seeds...'
