A Dove Born of Ashes

Art by Allyzabela Fernandez/THE FLAME

Embers flickered of a

dying, crumbling


my fingers stained gray

of sin, regret, and ruin

of hope.


it crushed what 

the flame broke

what it took

and what it left.


ashes upon ashes

of what used to be

reminders of lit matches 

and scorched petals.


winds threaten

to take even the remnants 

of hell’s grip

and what is left from the wick

that burned to threads.


yet a Dove rises from the ashes

beautiful and singed

a familiar glow

of peace and mourning

but not a raging fire of rebirth.


and in its beak

a final hope

an olive sapling

untouched by despair

untainted by embers.


it chirped and 

burrowed the roots of

its gift

beneath the rubble. 


among the grayscale

a gentle caress of color on my cheek

and a bitter, painful

sweet kiss.


the Dove’s ashen wings

blew dust into the air

taking with it

the peace it carried

yet the rich green

drowned away the 

drab sight

of a barren lump

of ash.


in embers 

olives bloomed

of a heart of wood

tarnished by fire

thriving with life. F

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