Dear great lathe of heaven,
O foundry of souls,
You churning, burning cosmos which has wrought me on the infinite loom of your celestial body.
Spinning stars and indifferent stones: hear my prayer.
Do not curse me to perish with all my dreams fulfilled.
Do not afflict me with a vision so narrow and a heart so small,
That all my greatest hopes could be accomplished within a single lifetime.
Rather, bless me with an unquiet spirit.
Anoint me with impertinent oils.
Grant me dreams so great and numerous,
That I might spend the fullness of my days to realize them,
And have ample remaining to leave to my inheritors.
Holy gyre that bore me and must one day take me home,
Allow me the mercy to depart this life with unfinished business.