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
Pausing, breathing, I grow into my new skin.
Is there no end to this?
One part of me cries out–please stop!
Another part sings all glory.