The phoenix and The fish

You flow seemlessly
through the turbulent streams,
troubles flicking
like small pebbles off of
your glistening scales,
said the phoenix.
I envy your cold-blooded existence.

You burn and burn.
Your warmth spreads
and embraces the creatures around you.
They marvel at the glow.
The embers entrance them.
said the fish
I envy your fire.

Maybe you can teach me your ways
said the phoenix
To merge with the currents
and course through the sea
as if the waves had no right to be there.
To view the world
through the crystal clear lens of fluidity. 

And maybe you can teach me your ways
said the fish.
To set yourself alight
feathers of fire and desire
floating down to the earth below
To gaze upon the world around you
with warmth and wonder. 

So the fish came out of the water for the phoenix 
And the phoenix flew down to meet the fish on land.

But the fish couldn’t breath.
The warmth of the earth scorched
it’s cool exterior.
And the phoenix burned with desires
that found no flight from the solid earth.

The flames of the phoenix licked
the fish until it’s blood began to boil. 
And the phoenix found no comfort 
in the arm-less embrace of the fish.

And so it came to pass,
that the most appropriate of distances
separated the two.