spirit arise
within ancient days of now
sometimes slow
ol'heavy eminations
in days full by
the stream of life
midnight glows
raw burned to essence
arsonist oh atavist
its time to climb and plunge
infernos and in forests
from eye to shelter harvest
grow flame spiral smoke clear
as turquise ocher from the soil
a song of self
hails horns and halls
eternal sky calls
carved out souls
