The Stoker

I want to be the stoker of your fire
And the smoke that rises through your chimney.
I want to be the dream in your dream catcher,
The clapper inside your bell
That announces the call to prayer each morning.
I want my tongue to be the one
That reads the prayer from your open book.
I want to be the beast inside your cage
Pacing and roaring, devouring the flesh you give.
I want to be the minion surrounding
Your sacred ark, be the one who opens
Your curtain, revealing the sacred light.
I want to be the knowledge of your flesh,
The fuel that makes your fire ignite.
I want my rod to be the one that casts your lure
Into an ocean of delight.
I want to be the sun in your day and the moon in your night.
I want to be the earth beneath you,
The heavens above.
I want this song to wrap its wings around us
And squeeze us so tight we have no choice
But to make love.