Here we sit charred embers to stoke a fire warm,
The hearth is cold, Hey! Not for long, Our plan is in good form.
A gentlemanly banter is played for sport at start,
Then, mixing jokes and compliments, kindling’s set to the heart.

Assembling in His holy name we catch a spark of heat
With warm Hellos and bright Howd’ya-dos ‘mongst brothers as we greet.
Young and old together form a merry congregation,
Ensuring fires may be set ablaze with each new generation.

A cool fresh wind like Eden’s breeze turns sparks into hot light,
An enchanted gleam beacons that all will soon be right.
Flaming tongues now all aglow. Rest men, settle in.
The fire’s tamed, a prayer is said; we’re ready to begin.

Hewn logs ‘pon the altar will burn in its own way,
Similar to poker bets that build into parlay.
If any moss or rot be found the fire makes no concern,
Steady consummation serves them equally to burn.

The fire’s not a ruthless killer, tis burns a sacrifice
We’ve laid upon the hearthstone, joint trust the only price.
The fire serves its purpose to set at liberty
The heavy carbon fiber weighed down by gravity.

Sweet bouquets rising up from smoke and ashen snow,
As cigars scent the beard and breath and with each word follow.
An incense to the God above in yielded supplication,
Ceaselessly, we bear our hears in sacred convocation.

Remain in love unquenched, tis our only duty.
If we commit sans limit, we’ll find a treasured beauty.
E’ery man seen as a tree, e’ery man forlorn,
Yielded to this Holy Flame is a miracle reborn.

Strong brew, a clever cheat, measured in loving grace,
Victuals, a hearty meat, and we’re reminded of that place;
A merry room, basin, towel, a table, and a feast,
A cup and bread, Man soon dead made lesser than the least.

But shall we ne’er bicker until our love be ended,
E’er for naught His body beat and for naught his body bled.
He a tree and we each a branch; His shining for our light.
We shall keep our candles lit with oil filled through the night.

Praise God this home and brethren, Tis His Holy Grail!
This is our spiritual house torn out the curtain veil.
Aft all is turned to dust and no more fuel to burn,
What remains refiner’s gold, as rich men we return.

First published in 2014, completed in 2023.

Dedicated to St. Timothy’s “Band of Brothers” Men’s Group

Read for Offertory during Diocese Men’s Retreat morning liturgy in Chafin Lodge, Trinity Pines on September 10, 2023, where the congregation was assembled before the great fireplace.