Behold the sacrificial flame! How it doth leap and dance! How it reacheth toward the heavens with tongues of golden fire! The smoke riseth up in spirals, carrying our prayers to the eternal realm. This is the moment of communion between earth and sky.

O Agni, thou art born anew with each lighting of the fire! Yet thou art also eternal, the same flame that burned at the beginning of time. Thou art the child of the wood and the lightning. Thou art the sacred fire that burneth upon every altar. When the priest kindleth thee with ceremony and reverence, the whole cosmos taketh notice.

See how thy flames consume the offerings! The butter melts and flows into the fire. The grain is blackened and transformed. The meat is purified. This is the language of sacrifice—the transformation of the material into the spiritual, the turning of earthly substance into divine attention.

The gods do gather when Agni's flames rise high. They come riding upon the smoke. They partake of the sweetness of the offering. They hear the prayers that are sung. In this moment, the boundary between the divine and the mortal world groweth thin. We stand upon the threshold of the infinite.

O mighty fire, thou that blazest high! Let thy flames mount ever upward! Let the smoke of our offerings carry our devotion to the ears of the gods! Accept what we have offered and grant us thy blessings! May this sacred fire burn eternally in our hearts!