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