Two stanzas/poems from the same word set. The Oracle is in mystic mode.
My fiery breath dances,
making an ocean of joy out of foolish fears.
Let life in, and sail after that hole in the sky,
so peace will grow soft and green as a morning flower,
and I will wake as a falling star.
Give me a night of magic, melting into needy lips,
lie unbroken by a slow sky, growing day-blue and red.
Dark is fading in the wake of morning;
the wild voices of the trees soften—
listen and you will hear the ocean singing with joy.
Clouds are grey as steel,
yet I remember where star-fire lingers.