Each a flower in a world of flame,
an elegant paper crane in a hurricane —
Launched of a smiling Face in elder days
loved alive by Life beyond the worlds’ maze.
Treat each and self as delicate as Rose
of sweet fragrance of ever life and impose
no dagger thought declaring one knows
nothing of flowers that in life’s stream repose.
So much the pity for any villain thus entwined,
as much the rage of righteous soul blind
that masks the need of spiritual kind
that brings such pain where only love would bind.