al-majus

Inspired by Hans Christian Anderson’s ‘The Phoenix Bird’

There is a little egg

buried

in the depths of the rubble.

Born out of the blood

of the very first rose

that fell on that very first day,

under a sky alight

with the sins of these

self-anointed 

gods

it trembles here now

in its nest of palm and myrrh.

When will it be my time? 

it hums,

from the belly of the earth

black eyes hungry,

wild tongue ablaze.

O, Prince of the East!

Sweet Songbird of Canaan!

With your down of crimson

and your velvet plumes of Tyrian purple—

break through this shell of blood and bone!

Soar aloft this hallowed earth

of blackened memories and charred photographs,

beyond these ashes of Empire,

beyond these gilded bars of your sky-vault,

rise, rise to your destiny.

Perch on the shoulder of the grieving mother,

weep at the cradle of the fallen babe

and kiss the pillow of that faithful poet

whose words flew to the stars one night

on the wings of a lonely

paper

dragon.

Whisper into the ears of the maimed,

I have come.

With your breath of rose and cardamom,

I have come.

The sun rises 

through a broken window

covered with newspaper.

The coffee has been poured

and the morning song of an

aged chanteuse crackles

on a half-broken radio

buried in the depths of the rubble.

written by Alaleh Mohajerani

first published on TikTok in December, 2023