Firebird

Like the world around me, I am reawakening. There are these little whispers of life within me that weren't there before. Something is stirring in my most primal depths. Like an unsatiated hunger, there are stirrings of creation. My mind's eye is filled with images of things that must be forged. There are sparks of energy in spaces that were long-claimed by ashe. I am the firebird, born from metaphorical death, into new life.

My being hungers for new satisfactions. Details are tedium but there is a fire within me, smoldering and ready to grow things where there were none.

I am continually woken from deep sleep with the sense that I am missing something. I am startled, what is pacing in my unconscious? What desires are yet unrealized? Gone is the being who cowered. Change is around me and I can taste its new blood between my teeth. Where will I be lead? Can I make my own destiny manifest? Am I being lead or leading? What will spawn from this nest?

I am no leaf on the wind but I have this sense that I am also not in control. I cast out ripples on the pond of my existence and watch to see where and how they reverberate. I am not discontent but I am itching with anticipation. What does this new chapter have in store for me? A lone predator, I watch and wait the next opportunity.