By Liam 

Beneath this fragile garment of skin

— our hidden meaning waits —

quiet,

inside the spirit.

We move through our days

gathering small pieces of light,

yet something deeper

keeps calling us

inward.

Now…

is the time

to tend to the secret fire.

Let my heart become a furnace

where sorrow transforms

and joy made pure.

Nothing given to this flame

is ever lost.

It transforms to insight,

for the journey to radiance,

no darkness can hold.

And when your days grow still,

like evening over spring water.

What remains is alchemical gold.

Clarified into its truest name:

love.