Few glorious such things,
As brothers sharing praise,
It is so sweet to me,
To share in righteous ways,

With loyal men, so dear,
The light of Christ appears,
To fill a man with strength,
There are few better things.

Passing on such expertise,
Now present under all your years,
The tools you share and build for us,
The hand-me-downs and hardy tricks,
Condensed turn richly to the few,
Grand kernels of eternal truth.

Coming now to journey's end,
I feel like I've done back-forth laps,
Sprinted till my hands and feet are golden paws,
I'm panting now just gone the line,
At last complete: now to ball up and snore.

Blood poisoned,
And a chained brain,
And mind predicted: broken,
Little hope for a little boy,
Who's blood didn't quite match up...
For a happy dispatch to the land of the breathing,
Then the mind-mender stepped in,
And He's been mending my mind every since,
Till I'm like His son,
So I continue to think,
And glorify this mind-mender of mine,
With thoughts maths and rhymes.