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Friendly sage from the starless height 
Now dying without fright 
In his human and earthly sight 
The cosmos dimmed its light 
Dying from old diphtheria 
Still his will looked higher 

He lost his voice to teach and greet 
That poured wisdom so sweet 
All he could do was meekly bleat 
Uclers formed on his feet 
Uclers broke through his gentle hands 
And sweat poured from his glands 

“I’ve been waiting to see 
You at last before I am free 
The Divine within me 
I will give back with childlike glee 
To the Good and Divine 
To the highest, beautiful Vine” 

“I have hope for you too 
I will fly the path of the few 
The path that Plato knew 
I am glad you will see me through” 
He said as he leaked puss 
To his dear friend Eustochius  

His friend was by his side 
Glad in the fertile countryside   
A snake slithered to hide 
With logos as his inner guide 
He took his final breath 
Greeting his diligent friend, death 

He left at sixty-six 
No longer bound to fleshly tricks 
Flew above stars and Styx 
Flew high above the craftsman’s bricks 
He ascended to the One 
Thus, his own friendly will was done

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