PURIFICATION

By the thought of it...
By the utterance of those words...
The ground and the utterer...
He shall taste it...
Turning his face towards the light...
With Grace...
He shall be saved by it...
Made fit...
He shall be washed of filth...
Mold groweth not on his bread...
Holding the power of the immortal throat...
No poison shall hold him...
Transmute it he shall into Nectar of Life...
Strife is for the fool...
Pain is for those with the skin of man...
In oneness with the Doer...
The vein holdeth not one pint...
Through Sun-filled nourishment...
No dam shall hold thee...
No man can scold thee...
No knowledge shall bind he...
He that is free and blinds himself...
But only to the ways of man...
The hot sand shall invigorate the bare foot...
And carrying no fire...
He shall purify himself at the Altar...
Inside of the Temple...
And as the Living Word...
His flesh shall cleanse even the stained glass...
And in one breath...
The Work is done, un-done and Done...


doM