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On the first day

And the last day

Of the world

The queer oracle

Leaps

From the center

Of a cauldron

From a fire

Kept by fey

And mortals touched by the Spark

Stir the fire

Mince the sage

Add cardamom

And time

There’s a sleeping seed

Buried deep

Beneath

The last fruiting tree

On earth

This tree will not survive

Nor will it die

Earth's brew

Feeds this seed

For rebirth

Heat the cauldron

Melt the sugar

Drink the brew

Set the spark

We are all

Just piles of mud

Mounds of flesh

Smothering the earth

Encased in stone

Statuettes,

That is

at least

Until

we feel

The Spark