There is a bird that lays no eggs and has no young. It was here when the world began and is still living today, in a hidden, faraway desert spot. It is the phoenix, the bird of fire.
One day in the beginning times, the sun looked down and saw a large bird with shimmering feathers. They were red and gold--bright and dazzling like the sun itself. The sun called out, "Glorious Phoenix, you shall be my bird and live forever!"
Live forever! The Phoenix was overjoyed to hear these words. It lifted its head and sang, "Sun glorious sun, I shall sing my songs for you alone!"
But the Phoenix was not happy for long. Poor bird. Its feathers were far too beautiful. Men, women, and children were always casing it and trying to trap it. They wanted to have some of those beautiful, shiny feathers for themselves.
"I cannot live here," thought the phoenix. and it flew off toward the east, where the sun rises in the morning.
The Phoenix flew for a long time, and then came to a far away, hidden desert where no humans lived. And there the phoenix remained in peace, flying freely and singing its songs of praise to the sun above.
Almost five hundred years passed. The Phoenix was still alive, but it had grown old. It was often tired, and it had lost much of its strength. It couldn't soar so high in the sky, nor fly as fast or as far as it was young.
"I don't want to live like this," thought the Phoenix. "I want to be young and strong."
So the Phoenix lifted it's head and sang, "Sun, glorious sun, make me young and strong again!" but the sun didn't answer. Day after day the Phoenix sang. When the sun still didn't answer, the Phoenix decided to return to the place where it had lived in the beginning and ask the sun one more time.
It flew across the desert, over hills, green valleys, and high mountains. The journey was long, and because the Phoenix was old and weak, it had to rest along the way. Now, the Phoenix has a keen sense of smell and is particularly fond of herbs and spices. So each time it landed, it collected pieces of cinnamon bark and all kinds of fragrant leaves. It tucked some in among its feathers and carried the rest in its claws.
When at last the bird came to the place that had once been its home, it landed on a tall palm tree growing high on a mountainside. Right at the top of the tree, the Phoenix built a nest with the cinnamon bark and lined it with the fragrant leaves. Then the Phoenix flew off and collected some sharp-scented gum called myrrh, which it had seen oozing out of a nearby tree. The Phoenix made an egg from the myrrh and carried the egg back to the nest.
Now everything was ready. The Phoenix sat down in its nest, lifted its head, and sang, "Sun, glorius sun, make me young and strong again!"
This time the sun heard the song. Swiftly it chased the clouds from the sky and stilled the winds and shone down on the mountainside with all its power.
The animals, the snakes, the lizards, and every other bird hid from the sun's fierce rays -- in caves and holes, under shady rocks and trees. Only the Phoenix sat upon its nest and let the suns rays beat down upon it beautiful, shiny feathers.
Suddenly there was a flash of light, flames leaped out of the nest, and the Phoenix became a big round blaze of fire.
After a while the flames died down. The tree was not burnt, nor was the nest. But the Phoenix was gone. In the nest was a heap of silvery-gray ash.
The ash began to tremble and slowly heave itself upward. From under the ash there rose up a young Phoenix. It was small and looked sort of crumpled, but it stretched its neck and lifted its wings and flapped them. Moment by moment it grew, until it was the same size as the old Phoenix. It looked around, found the egg made of myrrh, and hollowed it out. Then it placed the ashes inside and finally closed up the egg. The young Phoenix lifted its head and sang, "Sun, glorious sun, I shall sing my songs for you alone! Forever and ever!"
When the song ended, the wind began to blow, the clouds came scudding across the sky, and the other living creatures crept out of their hiding places.
Then the Phoenix, with the egg in its claws, flew up and away. At the same time, a cloud of birds of all shapes and sizes rose up from the earth and flew behind the Phoenix, singing together, "You are the greatest of birds! You are our king!"
The birds flew with the Phoenix to the temple of the sun that the Egyptians had built at Heliopolis, city of the sun. Then the Phoenix placed the egg with the ashes inside on the sun's altar.
"Now," said the Phoenix, "I must fly on alone." And while the other birds watched, it flew off toward the faraway desert.
The Phoenix lives there still. But every five hundred years, when it begins to feel weak and old, it flies west to the same mountain. There it builds a fragrant nest on top of a palm tree, and there the sun once again burns it to ashes. But each time, the Phoenix rises up from those ashes, fresh and new and young again.
Note : There are many, many descriptions of this legendary bird. Al-Jili considers the phoenix a prime example of unseen things (such as God), which can only be understood through their names and attributes. Some describe the phoenix as an eagle-sized bird; half eagle and half pheasant. Others say it is heron-like or a conglomeration of the most beautiful parts of all the birds in the world. Its name comes from the Greek word for "purple" because the phoenix is associated with fire and the sun. It has been described as golden or multi-colored. Some say it never eats. Others say it eats only dew. Most believe there is only one of its kind and it lives alone in Arabia or Ethiopia. All agree it is a bird of great beauty.
One day in the beginning times, the sun looked down and saw a large bird with shimmering feathers. They were red and gold--bright and dazzling like the sun itself. The sun called out, "Glorious Phoenix, you shall be my bird and live forever!"
Live forever! The Phoenix was overjoyed to hear these words. It lifted its head and sang, "Sun glorious sun, I shall sing my songs for you alone!"
But the Phoenix was not happy for long. Poor bird. Its feathers were far too beautiful. Men, women, and children were always casing it and trying to trap it. They wanted to have some of those beautiful, shiny feathers for themselves.
"I cannot live here," thought the phoenix. and it flew off toward the east, where the sun rises in the morning.
The Phoenix flew for a long time, and then came to a far away, hidden desert where no humans lived. And there the phoenix remained in peace, flying freely and singing its songs of praise to the sun above.
Almost five hundred years passed. The Phoenix was still alive, but it had grown old. It was often tired, and it had lost much of its strength. It couldn't soar so high in the sky, nor fly as fast or as far as it was young.
"I don't want to live like this," thought the Phoenix. "I want to be young and strong."
So the Phoenix lifted it's head and sang, "Sun, glorious sun, make me young and strong again!" but the sun didn't answer. Day after day the Phoenix sang. When the sun still didn't answer, the Phoenix decided to return to the place where it had lived in the beginning and ask the sun one more time.
It flew across the desert, over hills, green valleys, and high mountains. The journey was long, and because the Phoenix was old and weak, it had to rest along the way. Now, the Phoenix has a keen sense of smell and is particularly fond of herbs and spices. So each time it landed, it collected pieces of cinnamon bark and all kinds of fragrant leaves. It tucked some in among its feathers and carried the rest in its claws.
When at last the bird came to the place that had once been its home, it landed on a tall palm tree growing high on a mountainside. Right at the top of the tree, the Phoenix built a nest with the cinnamon bark and lined it with the fragrant leaves. Then the Phoenix flew off and collected some sharp-scented gum called myrrh, which it had seen oozing out of a nearby tree. The Phoenix made an egg from the myrrh and carried the egg back to the nest.
Now everything was ready. The Phoenix sat down in its nest, lifted its head, and sang, "Sun, glorius sun, make me young and strong again!"
This time the sun heard the song. Swiftly it chased the clouds from the sky and stilled the winds and shone down on the mountainside with all its power.
The animals, the snakes, the lizards, and every other bird hid from the sun's fierce rays -- in caves and holes, under shady rocks and trees. Only the Phoenix sat upon its nest and let the suns rays beat down upon it beautiful, shiny feathers.
Suddenly there was a flash of light, flames leaped out of the nest, and the Phoenix became a big round blaze of fire.
After a while the flames died down. The tree was not burnt, nor was the nest. But the Phoenix was gone. In the nest was a heap of silvery-gray ash.
The ash began to tremble and slowly heave itself upward. From under the ash there rose up a young Phoenix. It was small and looked sort of crumpled, but it stretched its neck and lifted its wings and flapped them. Moment by moment it grew, until it was the same size as the old Phoenix. It looked around, found the egg made of myrrh, and hollowed it out. Then it placed the ashes inside and finally closed up the egg. The young Phoenix lifted its head and sang, "Sun, glorious sun, I shall sing my songs for you alone! Forever and ever!"
When the song ended, the wind began to blow, the clouds came scudding across the sky, and the other living creatures crept out of their hiding places.
Then the Phoenix, with the egg in its claws, flew up and away. At the same time, a cloud of birds of all shapes and sizes rose up from the earth and flew behind the Phoenix, singing together, "You are the greatest of birds! You are our king!"
The birds flew with the Phoenix to the temple of the sun that the Egyptians had built at Heliopolis, city of the sun. Then the Phoenix placed the egg with the ashes inside on the sun's altar.
"Now," said the Phoenix, "I must fly on alone." And while the other birds watched, it flew off toward the faraway desert.
The Phoenix lives there still. But every five hundred years, when it begins to feel weak and old, it flies west to the same mountain. There it builds a fragrant nest on top of a palm tree, and there the sun once again burns it to ashes. But each time, the Phoenix rises up from those ashes, fresh and new and young again.
Note : There are many, many descriptions of this legendary bird. Al-Jili considers the phoenix a prime example of unseen things (such as God), which can only be understood through their names and attributes. Some describe the phoenix as an eagle-sized bird; half eagle and half pheasant. Others say it is heron-like or a conglomeration of the most beautiful parts of all the birds in the world. Its name comes from the Greek word for "purple" because the phoenix is associated with fire and the sun. It has been described as golden or multi-colored. Some say it never eats. Others say it eats only dew. Most believe there is only one of its kind and it lives alone in Arabia or Ethiopia. All agree it is a bird of great beauty.
je ne me lasserai jamais de lire tout ce qui peu être dit sur le phénix <3
understanding this bird is a very complicated matter..NOT an ez thing exactly
cool yo
Thank you for this interpretation
the next time the Pheonix arrises from the west we are to expirence the earth changes. and he is high in the sky now, put your finger on the earths pulse and feel the quickening, you can not deny it, our mother earth shall swat the pests that sting her and those that live in harmony will be the only tribes left, certain areas will be safer than other when she cleanses herself according to lost traditiponal Cherokee teachings research and spiritual guidance is key to understanding. research the traditional teachings and respect our mother
you know i absolutely love this story... maybe because my name is phoenix.
I too feel the quickening pulse of our Mother Earth. It is an excitement I feel. Yes, the Pheonix I do believe has taken back to the sky for her journey of rebirth. I believe she has fed only of tears. Bitter tears of sadness. After Mother swats away those that sting her, the Tribes who live in Harmony with her will be all that remain. The Pheonix will soon be reborn again and she will finally taste the sweet tears of JOY.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p10hTryZ5Fw
I think this might just be that bird
I've got Cherokee blood in me and I've been going through a lot of changes mentally such as hearing voices in my mind, seeing visions, and drawing geometrical designs and other things without myself actually doing them. The drawing i called psychic writing for lack of a better term. In my drawings this bird i keep seeing as the end result at first appeared to me as maybe a rooster but then this vision of a fire bird kept showing up. and this bird keeps making an appearance. The wolf, then a white owl, then a white cobra but then this seperate bird. This experience I had recently scared me to death but was the most calming reassuring feeling I've ever had. Keep in mind this was all SOBER. i kept hearing this voice in my mind scream SUN! SUN! and it asked me to stare directly into the sun for around three seconds straight. After I did the voice said "this pleases me" and asked me to walk into my home and stand in front of my couch. I did and it explained that I was going to experience something that may be frightening and to relax. I stood there with my eyes closed and that's when this explosion of what felt like the equivalent of a stick of dynamite going of in my chest. It felt like pure ice and fire in a perfect mixture throughout my entire body and I fell back on to my couch and heard "be grateful" I am willing to share my drawings and more information with those who can please help me understand what's happening to me. My email is sleeper4717@gmail.com for those with more insight
Based on this story, I am that Phoenix. It is because I had reincarnated to era to era after my death. My spirit animal is the phoenix. I feel more alive near the sun. I feel like I am my young after I die. I am the longest living phoenix in the world.
there is an almost similar bird in Persian/ Iranian myths called Simorgh (meaning or at least sounding like 30 birds). A very fascinating story about Simorgh in Persian literature.
Hello I'm single mom im down earth and giving. I'm born Nov 20.
I am spiritual gifted and God shows me things.I'm blessed be here suppose died in 2013.I am still here by God.I believe in God and he is real.be careful what you all choosing non judging so many wrong ppl try draw ppl in Not real about Godsorry not get biblical on here. I was raised with God and Christian parents they are good people. I am non dem I believe God loves all you.
I am Scorpio but now call my self Phoenix if asked
Everyone calls me licia
Can someone contact a local falconer for him. He's lost his person. He has been trained to land that way. A wild owl would grasp as he landed to cushion his landing, he is taking the brunt of the landing on his own body to avoid gouging their heads with his razor sharp talons. His human must have died. He was likely a rescue that chose to stay close after release, and he is likely very lonely without a person, as many rescued animals are, hence why some don't stay released by choice. He will likely go with a falconer willingly. Crystalshine Marie ��
I have died of a high fever of 104.1 and allergic reaction to pennicillin. I was tossed in a bath of ice and alcohol water after my heart stopped and my eyes rolled back into my head fogged over turned white. Also I heard a voice as i was clinically dead for ten mins at age 4 "it's not your time you have more to do" a female spoke to me I was pulled back from this light and clouds i was floating towards. I was pulled back into my body even though I felt warm I awoke to being freezing cold my only explanation is a reaper angel and now ever since age 4 at age 42 now I have not had a child been through many a relationship and 1 divorce last year still no children and I see dead friends and relatives in my dreams and have predicted accidents and deaths of people close to me. Am I this thing they call a phoenix. All my friends call me this and I am 5 types of native blood and Irish on both sides 50/50 mixed with blood of my ancestors. Phoenix57floyd@gmail.com I need someone to tell me what my dreams and all this means who has studied it.