Each light,
Each shade settles
On desert sand.
We see the shining face,
The linen-wrapped body,
The sinking into glass.

One brass light swings
From the cypress branch.

The priestess scrutinizes,
Recites, prays
Ancient words with vast meaning.

And so, we have the promise
Of the angelic—the silver branch
Where she wraps silver fingers
Around silver bark.

And the White Guardian shines over all.

Here,
In glowing hand,
The branch aloft catches flame,
White flame flickering,
Winding down in serpent coils
From fingers to palm.
One atop the other, fire dances—

In this silver light,
The silver branch,
Each leaf,
Each berry aflame,
To open the worlds,
To grind gold from sand.