Like Oil on Aaron’s Beard

Amidst the ripening of light upon the world,

there in the small hours

 

The silver sheen

accumulates on all things

 

alive and dead, handmade, grown

natural and wild

 

Refreshes with a drink in spirit and flesh

bright and cool

 

The still agitation of moisture

A renewal and drink of divine blessing

 

Awash, the morning, the world

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