Set Fire to the Mind

From earth’s own elements the race at first rose into life.
The mother of a hundred pins of light,
holds the rending sound and tints the sky to her lullaby.
The breath of her lover, still in the hush of worlds.

And when the flowers are gone, we are the seeds,
drowned in dew, weary of the game.
For us alone are wrapt and mystic,
daughters to a noble mind, resonance of harmonious sound
wandering upon the earth.