My Mom

My Mom is a phoenix Her soul is burden-less as any bird Free as any foul But with a little more fire than your average wise owl Again and again she crackles and burns with passion Always to fly up from the ashes Starting fresh with forgiveness Being reborn with compassion The main reason she pardons me time after time? She’s had so much practice “You’ve yet to be baptized by fire” Are the common words from her beak And to her I know they mean I still have so much to learn So much pain to endure Before I become a grown up bird like her But I know menopause isn’t the only reason She complains it’s always hot My Mom is a phoenix Whether she knows it or not