Legend of the Phoenix: Yariss's version

In ancient times, long before I found Earth or her people, many stories were told about a beautiful bird named Phoenix.  Many versions seemed to contradict each other, so here I offer you my own. 
         
        In a territory that spanned continents there lived a beautiful bird so unique most thought of it as a myth.  Phoenix’s plumage was rich and deep in color.  The reds, blues, and purples were like the crystals in the valley.  The gold of the arms- length tail feathers, and the small crest upon its head rivaled the brilliance of the treasures I bring from Audian Prime.  The long neck and legs of the creature gave it a regal appearance.  Yet all of this is not what made Phoenix such a remarkable creature. 
         
        Phoenix had a beautiful, irresistible voice.  He used it to praise the Sun from which he was born.  Many humans would follow his voice and try to capture him for his plumage.  Phoenix flew from his home in the mountains, far away to a desert in the east where humans did not yet live.  There he lived and sang praises to the sun for 1,000 years.  As his strength failed, Phoenix returned to his home in the mountains to die.  When Phoenix once again arrived in his birthplace, his plumage was dull and his voice failing.  As the light of day faded, Phoenix built himself a nest of twigs, cinnamon, and myrrh.  At sunset Phoenix fell asleep.
         
        Just before dawn Phoenix awoke.  He stood in the center of his nest wings spread, to greet the sun.  As the first rays broke the horizon, Phoenix sang what he knew was his last song.
         
        As they always did, humans began to gather and plot how to capture Phoenix for themselves.  They whispered among themselves how this couldn’t be the Phoenix their ancestors storied about.  He was not nearly as magnificent as what they had claimed.  His voice cracked and fell short of the high notes.  It could not reach the low notes.  No they thought, this could not be Phoenix.
         
        Throughout their discussions Phoenix sang to the sun.  He sang every hope and dream in his heart.  He sang his adventures and woes.  The Sun heard him, though only just barely.  The Sun crept closer to better hear the song of his favorite child.  As his rays got closer, the humans and other creatures ran from his touch until only Phoenix remained.
         
        “Father, I am weary.  Will you not take me home?”  The Sun agreed, and as he reached out to take his child into his arms, Phoenix burst into flames. 
         
        “My child, forgive me!!”  The Sun in a fit of grief, retreated and called to his sister the Rain to put out the flames.  As she cooled the flames, the myrrh mixed with the ashes of Phoenix to form what looked like an egg at the bottom of the nest.  “Now my child, I can take you home.”
         
        The Sun reached out a soft ray to cradle the egg.  To his surprise the egg moved!  Again the Sun tried to pick up the egg, again it moved.  The Sun left the egg in the nest and merely let the ray warm it.  In minutes it hatched into a new young Phoenix!
         
        “Father,” Phoenix sang, his plumage and voice every bit as exquisite as the legends told, “Your love for me has granted me a new life.  Every 1,000 years I will return to sing my death song.  Every 1,000 years I will be reborn.  Thank you.”  As Phoenix flew back to his desert home, he sang the Sun’s praises.
         
        The humans gathered Phoenix’s egg shell and placed it on their alter to the Sun.  To my knowledge, this ritual is still performed to this day.