Scarlet smoke, sapphire ghosts
Auburn logs burn, glow of gold.
Tongues of silver hiss and a snake charmer
Warms his bony fingers
Enabling him to play music which
Makes the transitory upward drift
In a kaleidoscopic symphony that,
Changes into frozen stars, but with
A quiver in their soul, as the tune
Of a lone flute lends comfort to
Our eternity.