A Voice called, and I went.
I went because the voice kept on calling.
I went, intent not to fall.
But at the crossroads
I put my ear against the cold whiteness of the snow,
And I wept.
For I had lost something.
Blessed is the match that is consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.
Blessed is the heart with wisdom to stop its beating for honor's sake.
Blessed is the match that is consumed in kindling flame.