Scattered Ashes

A phoenix dies.
Reborn in the ashes,
energized by its reclamation.
It takes back its space, that which it is and
that,
which is sacred to its soulself.

But when the ashes are scattered,
it can no longer reclaim,
what it is,
was,
should be,
could be.

The searching,
the yearning for something once owned,
once a part of,
once the being,
now,
scattered ashes.
It can not
find its reclamation.
It can not
claim back what once was its own.

Lost and searching
it remains.
Scattered, like the ashes
that hold it in place.
Until.
it flows through the wind and leaves what confines it,
to be born again in a new place,
somewhere away,
somewhere else.