XXXIII

Night’s long journey yields at last to dawn. Imagine yourself once more in that wood where once you were lost, fearful and withdrawn.

Now the eastern sky is aflame where you stood. The dark forest around you is still and hushed, but no longer do you fear its quiet hood.

You have walked through the night, soul untouched by terror, carrying an inner spark. The trials are over; old shadows are crushed.

One by one, the stars fade from the dark as a deep blue hope spreads overhead. Birdsong breaks forth - a divine remark.

The air is cool and fresh; you inhale stead- ily, feeling the universe breathe with you. Each breath a beginning, no part is dead.

Between the tree trunks, a glow gathers true. The horizon beckons with gentle light. You step forward, reborn, your path clear in view.

Where gnarled roots once tripped you in night’s fright, now flowers of understanding mark the way. What was tangled confusion is rendered right.

You cast one last glance back at the shadowy grove, now dappled with daylight, its terrors all gone. What once was a maze of fear now, in truth, is a trove

of lessons earned under moon and beyond. You smile at the forest that forged your rebirth, then turn to the east where new life is drawn.

Standing at this threshold, you comprehend that this journey of “dying to live” never ends; it is the very essence of life to transcend.

Far in the distance, where heaven blends with earth, the sun now lifts its glorious eye- a great luminous disk that ever ascends

and descends-eternal cycle in the sky. Its rays cascade over your face and hands, bathing you in warmth as night’s vapors fly.

Above, the sky spreads in hues of rose and gold, dappled with clouds catching fire at the rim. A gentle breeze shakes the trees in merry fold.

Each leaf glitters, no longer ghostly or grim, but green and shining in morning’s tender rays. The world awakens at nature’s dawn hymn.

Dewdrops sparkle on every grass thread, each reflecting a tiny perfect sun born. The world is renewed, as are you, my friend.

A young doe steps out from the thicket nearby, ears flicking, eyes gentle as it meets your gaze. Sensing no threat, it grazes, then bounds shy

into the open meadow, welcoming the day’s arrival alongside you without fear. Even wild creatures seem to know this phase

of peace; in your stillness they feel you near as kin, reborn under the same rising sun. Nature herself recognizes one who volunteers

to die and live with her cycles spun. Once, you were frightened of endings, of dearth; now you realize each ending holds a seed.

The morning sun rises from night’s death, in worth. You kneel gently upon the grass, not in need but in gratitude profound and reverence. You place your palms on the soil and indeed

feel the hum of existence, every presence connected-the soil of past life, ash of old you, nourishing the roots of new growth’s essence.

A young sapling nearby, drinking the dew, might be fed by the dust of leaves long decayed. So are your bygone selves feeding the true

and growing self that stands here today. You smile at this thought and stand once more, letting the moment wash you in sun’s ray.

In the distance, a phoenix gives a cry and soars, trailing flames across the awakening sky. You watch its crimson and gold wings roar

with recognition-that mythic bird on high is no stranger, but kin to your soul. It circles upward, and you know why:

it symbolizes you, in full and in whole, ever-dying, ever-reborn, free in flight. Its image will guide other travelers’ goals.

Perhaps someone else, lost in that selfsame night you once wandered, will see your phoenix flame and find courage to carry through their plight.

For now you carry the torch of this claim: that death is not the enemy of our story but the refining fire by which we reclaim

our truest life. With this hard-won glory illuminating your eyes like the dawn, you stride into the open, new territory.

The road of life stretches welcoming on, turning and twisting beyond what you see, but you walk it freely, the burden of fear gone.

You know there will be twilight again, and to be faithful, you will let that self die as well, and awaken tomorrow in infinity.

This cycle is your sacrament, and you tell the day’s new breeze, “I am here, I am open.” No longer afraid of whatever befell.

In the depths of your soul, a promise spoken resounds like a bell in morning’s clear air: to keep dying and living with faith unbroken.

The sun climbs higher; life is everywhere. You begin to walk, one step at a time, heart light, mind clear, spirit aware.

As you move forward into the sublime unknown of the day, you carry the flame of transformation, the power of paradigm.

No matter how the hours ahead may frame their events-whether joy or sorrow appear- you will meet them as clay meets kiln the same,

ready to be shaped by experience dear. By nightfall, you’ll surrender all back to the fire, and by dawn, be reshaped with vision more clear.

This is your vow and your dance never tired: to live, to die, to live again more true. The rhythm of renewal is your chosen choir.

If ever doubt whispers, you know what to do: turn inward to that ember that never expires, the divine spark that death can’t subdue.

In it resides an infinite number of fires, ready to blaze as soon as you give consent. Trusting this, you will walk through all mires.

So go forth, pilgrim of purposeful intent- the day is yours, and the whole world too. Each sunset is sweet and each dawn heaven-sent

when you die every day and each day is new. Your story continues, unbound and free, writing itself in hues of every hue.

And when finally the Great Night comes to be, it will find you prepared, gentle and brave, another sunrise shining in your eyes to see.

For you have learned the secret none can enslave: that Life and Death are one continuous stream, and the soul that knows this no fear can grave.

You rise from each ending as light from a dream, and as long as the sun continues to rise, you too shall journey onward, supreme.

Now the sun fully dawns in splendid surprise, and you step forward to meet the new day’s promise. Your old self is gone; your new self flies.

In each golden moment that eternity leases, you live without chains, as fearless as ray. This is the path of the phoenix that rises from creases

of darkness-this is the truth that leads the way: You must die, and be reborn, every day.