A thousand fires clamour in me, each a flame torch
Of will dipped in burning splendour of the spirit,
Strident like troops of battling gods they do march,
My being shudders to rhythmic stamp of their feet.

A thousand voices rouse in me, each a priest hymn
Intones, summoning many a god to the human fray,
Each voice wed to each fire lead the battle within,
To burnish to robust gold the all too fragile clay.

My soul is a grand officiant of this occult sacrifice,
Overseeing the rite and gesture and will and intent,
My body and mind have turned an Yagña’s device
And my heart turns a pristine pedestal for His feet.

Soon it shall be the journey’s end, the divine event
When all is made light and joy and bliss sans limit.