Behold! The flames leap upward, reaching toward the vault of heaven. Each tongue of fire stretcheth higher, burning with urgent hunger for the sky. Agni burneth as though he would tear open the veil between this world and the realm of the deathless ones. His heat driveth upward. His force knoweth no resistance.

The smoke gathereth in clouds, coiling and twisting like serpents ascending. The red and golden light illuminateth the night. All around the fire, faces shine with reflected glory. We stand in the presence of something that reacheth beyond us, that belongeth to a realm we can only glimpse through heat and light and smoke.

Thou art the pillar, O Agni, the great column that connecteth earth to heaven. Thy base is planted in the wood, in the tinder, in the offering-bowl. But thy crown — thy crown reacheth into the stars themselves. The gods look downward from their seats of cloud and recognize thee as their brother, their kinsman, their representative in this lower realm.

The flames writhe and dance with terrible beauty. Gold, orange, red, yellow — all the colors of the sunset burn in thy form. Thou hast the shape of no living thing and the essence of all living things. Thou art hunger and satisfaction. Thou art destruction and creation in one terrible, beautiful instant.

Higher, higher still! Let thy flames stretch toward Indra's heaven. Let them pierce through the clouds. Let them kindle the stars. Thou art the mediator, the one who speaketh between worlds, the sacred fire that joineth what is separated. Through thee, O Agni, the mortal realm and the immortal realm are made one.