Fire Island: The Phoenix Within

With rocks that flow
As clouds catch alight,
Where the daytime’s darkened
And the night-time’s quite bright
The seas around are stirring some
As if they know of what is to come.
The volcanic lands begin to stir
The air becomes thick, the horizon a blur,
The lands spew flames high into the air
The waters hiss as if they care.
Steam evaporates,
Molten rock sets,
Pungent smoke begins its escape
Creating in the sky the oddest of shapes…
Yet an island such as this,
That yields such destruction and death,
Holds in its midst
The strangest thing yet.
For this is a land that gives a mystical rebirth…
Of a creature from fire, water and Earth…
From the ashes a Phoenix is born,
A symbol of a brand new dawn,
A token to show that things can begin again…
With a question of hope being… and what then?
After the flames have burned themselves out
Remains a life where opportunities abound.
The Phoenix is mystical, Fire Island a myth,
But we all have an island, a Phoenix, within.
With choices to make: to fly or to soar?
To reach for the skies, to do even more?
The beginnings can happen again and again…
So remember the question… and what then?