three bright shards spun off my sword
to come and forge themselves anew,
a trinity of purity to break there own way;
such tempers as are tempered in this world
to a finer cutting edge than most
that they might slice through the dim
and never blunt with each dulling blow;

three shards…

one Matthew
one Caleb
one Isabella

take my iron forward as their own,
take my fire and my song and flown –
into the great and into the wide
but never into the deeper dark alone