The Oil

Written by: keisha davis

Awaiting at intimacy’s door 
Something waits on the other side.
For companionship.
An eternal company but temporary for those that grieve it
It strays. Consecrate!
That thou would enter into the door.
Requirement for communion.
Let me in and turn the lock.
Safety from worldly enticements and I must dwell within.
One enters and meets the friend, of Aaron’s beard.
One fresh for the death that it might rest.
I’m enticed. 
The friend for a narrow life.
Who has met and lived in unity with thee, but one of humility?
Enter me and make us one. 
How I saw that it runs and flows down, it sends me
Through moments of awakening unknown fibers within me
I’m drawn.
For many have awaited intimacy’s door
Being welcomed by the presence.
Carrying that which welcomed them, and its essence.
And it drips.
From truth’s lips and Holy gifts. 
Receiving the tangible.
A friend sticking closer than a brother
Breaking through, protecting me, cloaking me like a cover. 
Walking with I Am.
The saturation of wisdom’s realm.
And breaks the yoke
Be cleansed as laundrers soap would
Going about tied away with speaking and doing good
More fire for the wood, and it accompanies a generation with light.
Prepares your fingers to fight.
Unveiling to usher sight.
Be not at the door with not enough of it.
For the foolish virgins did not enter
Consecrate! Covenant. Authority.
Running from heads down.
Being behind intimacy’s door
Having met the awaited one.
Becoming a carrier, of
The Annointing.