In fiery tongues of the ancient fireling,
Dances the ghost of the Magician’s Daughter,
and her paramour, the starry-eyed Owl King,
Their zephyrus song-revelry growing louder,
Summon shadow-laughter, crackling kindling,
While the warlock trapped weeps to be without her,
Her, who lies in darkness, unseen fate-weaving,
Whisper prayers for forgiveness in spring showers,
Magic made real only through painful living.
Discarded Recollections 