• Michaela

My Wishing Prayer

O sweet soul, cherished, lovable, worthy: I know how deeply go the wounds, I know your demons,

How you're barely coping with all your sorrows,

Packed away in tissue paper, now lifted from their boxes

As new and strange as a present...

I know your horror as each globe breaks at a whisper,

Spilling with little seas of grief, queries, anger

And how they drown you as you ask, bewildered;

'Why was I not grown straight, given sun and water,

Made to root and blossom and bear forth bounties? Why was I grown crooked, in darkness parching?

Why made to stand in wind that bent and bowed me?' You bow to the divinity within you And rise to take in love, to drink compassion,

Benadapting to a world of plenty and full of havens

I am as I always have been here within you

You and I, and I in You, and Us together

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