the 12 year poem

I write a poem every Chinese New Year, which like Rona said often falls on or around Ash Wednesday. I started in the Year of the Horse. Only more 8 years to go, which will mean the poem will completed 2013 in the year of the Snake. Which reminds me, I should make sure I have copies of the other ones. (oops! details!)

At the dawn of night
a family of monkeys
flees the flaming forest.
The Elder One gathers strength
before reaching for the next vine
hands arthritic, body lumbering.

In the nearby village,
a brown egg startles
awake the mother hen's feathers.
what was once contentment
is now confinement.

The Family moves off behind
the thickening smoke of the
canopy. The Elder One bounds
forth heat pressing his back
the burning crackle
like the sharp pecking
within the egg shell.

He leaps again with laboring breath
a gush of wind leans the flames closer.
The shell cracks, ancient trees tumble
his spirit surrenders
a jagged piece of shell falls.

An eye peers out
for the first time
as a gray ash rains lightly
onto a greater world.