THE CAMPHOR LAMP

My lamp is lit to glow in my spirit's hearth,
I rest at rosey red of dawn with God who's One,
For at my core He shines, blazing like the Sun.
Let sandal wood burn and perfume Mother Earth,

Giving me gigantic strength to start new birth.
The art of diving deep into the heart, is my own
Precious practice, and solemnly bowing down
My old ashen head at His lotus feet, to know

The oil in my camphor lamp will always flow.
The Quest itself derives from fear of death;
At edge of brink to that murky ocean depth,
I catch a glimpse of light from down below,

And sink within, letting sad world float away;
As old day fades, my flame shall always stay.
Camphor burnt in votive lamps leaves no residue,
My devotion flows faithfully like oil does too.