The Hearth In Which The Holy Fire Burns.

I thank you O my body for these years

And all that you have borne of my abuse,

The excesses of youth, desire filled,

And illnesses that I allowed to pass

Through the subtle envelope protecting me.

I worked for him, the father that I loved

Pushing you past the limits of your strength,

Servant of my soul, the spirit's home.

I thank you for the days that I have left

For the eternal moment that is now

And for the future and these sleep filled hours

Of quiet and regenerating sleep.

I shall care for you, no longer to despoil

The temple ground, the sacred inner site,

The hearth in which the holy fire burns.