Dear editor,

You require a poem about a phoenix and so a phoenix is what I shall give you.

These words are crumbling feathers, shrivelling under the heat of a world

that slurps on blazing creativity. Observe them too hard and they’ll disintegrate into soot. Skim through them too lightly and they’ll melt into sludge. These letters will set your page aflame momentarily in spurts of inspiration, only to burn out once again.

This poem is your phoenix.

It will reside here this month and reincarnate itself the next.

I pray it finds its way home.

Yours sincerely, The Optimist

Joshua Weerasingham (@righthandman.writes)