Firebird, you found me,

when I was mired in mud, and tasked with things bigger than I felt I could be

“This is not the trouble,” you said of each labor of my quest, and you were right:

in each patch of shadow you shed a golden feather to light the way ahead of me,

and you lined my path with pearls.

Firebird, I pray that the trouble is behind me now

You are not like the phoenix-you do not immolate to build a nest of ashes and embers for rebirth

You have no need of renaissance because you resiliently endure-

Shine ahead of me

Show me this way, too