Perspectives on Prayer 03/07/2010
By Sabrina Russo It was a testament to a greater Purpose, but even its might could stand no chance against time. Ruins are left now; stone etchings now illegible on crumbling markers of forgotten lives. My cathedral was never one of stone and soaring vaults-- the vaults of the sky are limitless and my frescoes are made of starlight. My holy water needs no blessings. In its very existence, it is counted already as blessed. I step into the water of the living shore and I am pure; the turmoil of a past life washed away with each frigid caress. Protected by heather and thistle, there is no bed any longer that can bear me to a peace like this. I am unimpeded by stone, wood, or protocol. I pray in divinity to divinity from divinity. And in these moments upon a grassy altar, there is no sermon to interrupt the conversation. CommentsLeave a Reply |
RSS Feed