Eight Angels Came to Me On Eight Nights
Each one told a story**
The second night, he came dressed as an angel in Japanese embroidered silk.
Are you a man or a lady? I asked him — there are so many more possibilities
said the angel.
Oil is wisdom, poured over the head of the Priest King Messiah, overflowing like precious oil on the head, running down the beard of Aaron.The pure finely-beaten, most excellent of the olive oil —
the olive that releases its finest product when pressed.
Smell this, said the angel, pressing his wrist to my nose
another quality of oil — the capacity to absorb.
I smelled yasmina
When I make perfume the scent is absorbed into the oil — then distilled. Wisdom
is absorbed from the world this way — both its beauty and its contaminants.
Now, said the angel, one small vial of pure oil when fired up lights everything. Wisdom when it is tended burns pure burns long burns sure.
We are all in the game — attaching to the pure, resisting the contaminants lurking
everywhere around us within us.
O God — a heart of purity create in me bind me to the purifications, separate me from the contaminants —