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Oaken Blaze

A tiny spark ignites the flame
Burning bright split by pain
Now two wings of fire claim
Mystery dark without a name

So good she thought herself
Assumed sword guarding wealth
Thought lay empty on a shelf
Demon twin and victim melt

From hazel cut wooden wand
Conjure pearls from a pond
Place them gentle there upon
With it cast another dawn

Now angels sit on brimstone hot
Throne of dogwood martyr’s lot
Savior found in Celtic knots
Born again as pretense rots

Epiphany rise up from decay
Raven nighttime Phoenix day
Oak it spoke and blaze did say
Once we fought but now we play