A Sacrament

 Become that high priest,  the bee. Drone your way  from one fragrant temple to another, nosing into each altar. Drink  what's divine— and while you're there, let some of the sacred cling to your limbs. Wherever you go  leave a small trail  of its golden crumbs.  In your wake  the world unfolds  its rapture, the fruit of its blooming. Rooms in your house fill with that sweetness your body both makes and eats.              —Paulann Petersen