Great mysteries peel back to reveal lofty beauty in the communal kitchen.

By lanternlight we trod toward cosmic union.

Behind my friends I see a blue-white fireball pierce our atmosphere with such intensity my legs collapse beneath me.

A soft elvish palm glows blue with the light of a fallen star retrieved.

And thus speaks the wanderer:
"The fire can be intense sometimes.
The fire is important.
Like my mother's death."