A Prayer for the moment I’m in

She tasked us with contemplating our own hearts, and I entered into this prayer.

Exquisite God, you enter into our tentativeness, and you sit with me in my silence.

You offer a cradle that is sturdy.

You hold us in shapes we aren’t held to longer than we wish to be.

You whisper, and you flow, and you change with the light, making our eyes look for you.

Making the sounds of our heartbeats thump steadily from every skin covered limb.

You move me to place my head on my knees, resting but not falling asleep.

Mystery upon mystery.

Humanity within inhumanity.

Inhumanity that is real.

Sacredness that one has to uncover, second to second to unbelief to openness to exasperation.

Cradled in our ineptitude.

Cradled from our inevitable swaying.

Cradled if here again we want to be.

Gently, imperceptibly, as wind fall, as rain fall, as thawing parts, as hardened parts, alert.

Light upon light changing. Sound upon sound fading away.

Wistfully seeing the shadow of our eyelids within our partially closed eyes.

Wanting to look, remembering reversion.

Whispering into the smalls of our palms what is on our hearts to say.

Writer. Thinker. Facilitator. Advocate. Invested in accountability for power based violence, creative initiatives, and meaningful, nuanced dialoguing.

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