FIRE FLOWERS
mvt 7 from “Fire Flowers”

And only where the forest fires have sped,  
Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands, 
A sweet wild flower lifts its purple head,  
And, like some gentle spirit sorrow-fed, 
It hides the scars with almost human hands. 

And only to the heart that knows of grief,
Of desolating fire, of human pain, 
There comes some purifying sweet belief,  
Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief. 
And life revives, and blossoms once again.

Emily Pauline Johnson (1861-1913)
Canadian poet of the Mohawk Nation