Baked into the Matrix:

 
Scintillant voices
lift the cradle from the grave
Apache Tears wisp
pillows of lava in green
A crash of glass belts out hymns 
 
Cords of scarlet thread
tethered to Waxwing’s tarsus
A gathered harvest
has ripened for the breached seige
This city of palms sings psalms 
 
Deep in the forest
Wild Violet Wood Sorrel
Heart shaped leaves folded
like a child’s valentine
a message of love, not war
 
©️Winter Dawn Burns