You who would condemn me
to the heap of ash and deny me
the fiery phoenix
have no power
to hurt me.

Give you your diamonds and pearls
to all the pretty girls, cast me out
in the no man's land
beyond the realm
of friends—

See now the circuitous nature 
of your life's game and come home
to your heart's home,
seeing yourself through
new eyes now.

If this you simply cannot do
then play it as you may but know that
if you want to go another round
of ring around the rosie
count me out.

Your pocket full of posies
may well work with the other rosies;
I am a girl on fire and you may
draw no ring around me
or squelch truth.

In the end, in the beginning again...
two things come clear in life's rain of ash
and a spring bouquet only God can give:
  1) some things you cannot kill
  2) we all fall down.