Lightness in the bosom portends
A hint of flint-struck spark
Is this that which will set ablaze
Blood grown brackish ashen dim?
Strange how incense offered in dark
Can reach a man so ignorantly far
Telescoping, periscoping,
Suddenly there
Without knowing it
When tufts of smoke converge
The image of Divinity burns
Only faith, only the Example
Can confirm
Perhaps the dead end road
Is the path to the everlasting
Brian Hui 
“flint-striken”? “flint-struck”? i can’t tell if it’s poetic license or bad grammar… =) of course i say that with the utmost respect for you and your creation…
argh, i guess you’re right. but “stricken” sounded better.