My Morning Star

You see every bit of me, my morning star.
You pour life to me, no matter what.

I need not ask.
I open to receive.
Turn the bucket of me
right side up.

When you fill me with your golden fire,
you bend my edges wide and this
is my ecstasy.

I pause, breathe, and grow into my new skin.

Is there no end to this?
One part of me cries out–please stop!

Another part sings all glory.
This blessing.

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