Sometimes, my prayers are absolutely silent. I reach for Their presence and just hover there, like a bee near a flower. Sometimes, the world, with all its grief and pain, rampant stupidity, and short-sightedness, wears me down.
I get tired. The past feels heavy and human interaction scrapes on every raw nerve. It's not even validation or Their acknowledgement I crave. It is, at these times, enough to know that They are there and know we exist.
I hail You, All-Father. I hail You, great Prince of Temples. I love You, Lady of the Celestial Rose Garden. I love You, Mistress of the Mansions of the Moon.
I get tired. The past feels heavy and human interaction scrapes on every raw nerve. It's not even validation or Their acknowledgement I crave. It is, at these times, enough to know that They are there and know we exist.
I hail You, All-Father. I hail You, great Prince of Temples. I love You, Lady of the Celestial Rose Garden. I love You, Mistress of the Mansions of the Moon.