Phoenix

No
It ain’t in Arizona
And no,
It ain’t no mythic bird
It is
Faith-
In the plan.
Faith-
In the moment.
Faith-
In inevitability,
And faith in in the soul.

Just when you think
There is nothing to do
But sit on your hands
And drink another brew,
She arrives
With gold in her hair.
She comforts you-
But not with a  “there-there”.
She lights a fire
Deep in your gut
She’ll sound the choir
And drop salt on that cut.

“YOU’RE ALIVE GODDAMN YOU, SO GET OFF THE FLOOR,
STEP RIGHT BACK IN AND GET KNOCKED ‘ROUND S’MORE!”

So you get to your feet as she kisses your cheek.
You pop your collar and start feeling not so weak.