The Soul Takes Wing on Ashes of its Former Self

How gratefully I rise to greet the dawn
in glory rising on another day.
The shades of past mistakes are all but gone.
New vistas share their promise which conveys
not only hope that past is past, but that
there rises now in richness, wakenings
of mind and body framing welcome mat
to resolutions made.  



The soul takes wing on ashes of its former self.
In depths of pain, and sickness and disease, much wrestling
can bring forth new resolve; to make a gain
of restless nights and of that suffering
which humbles and in crucibles refines.
That soul which bursts asunder linings cast
for pathogens through purges which align
repentant’s urge with pure and cleansing fasts,
leaves prison house to try out wings of wars;
lays claim to Suffering’s means to healing cures.