I stretch out my soul, like a land without water.
Psalm 142
The moon is teetering
in the tangling hierarchies of branches.
Orb of dread and dream.
Bright of bird songs
and right angling light
from the dropped day,
the soft-beautiful
voice of God
voice of God
praying us toward
unspeakable light.
Cynthia, "the voice of God praying us..." is a fascinating perspective. I don't know that I have ever thought of God praying, and then, praying us -- it is a soft and lovely image; the concept itself even jolting, in a "waking-up" sort of way -- that God cares. Thanks for posting this. Love to you!
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