Splendor Solis Poem by Patti Masterman

Sun our father, Moon our mother;
Whom might we oppose?
Earth and heaven go unleavened
Less is blessed, by those.

Things above and things below
Seldom will depart the likeness
They were made together,
By creator's art.

Flamel's fire is full of ire
To find the antidote,
While stones philosophize our sighs
Who left here, on this mote.

We harmless hold the souls
Of old, who toyed with the world
To find the secret grail of time,
Its secrets to unfold.