She’s always looking for deeper meaning
Like when she gets split ends
She runs to the church instead of to the drug store
Partly because her hair is dry
And partly because transmissions between she and God are sometimes frayed
She’ll tell you there are no coincidences
Like when the Rosary Beads keep coming in the mail
from the Franciscan Priests
She knows they couldn’t possibly all be for her
So she waits for God to tell her who they belong to
And He tells her, like only God can
With no randomness and with a very clear voice
And when the light turns green and she goes
She tries really hard to keep the connection
She moves forward trying new directions
Like the one she went in last night in her dreams
Which she tells you is a message from Him and not
The smores she ate before she went to bed
She’ll tell you her faith is like that sometimes
It's stronger in some places and weaker in others
But she somehow manages to hold it all together
Like the unseen Holy mortar in between the prayers at the Wailing Wall
She is in constant prayer
Trying fervently to increase her faith
She’ll tell you that faith comes by hearing
But she doesn’t realize that right now the music in her head
is playing way too loud
She can’t make out the words
So she relies on her intuition
Which always makes the signal come in clearer
1 comment:
I do not know what to say. All frailty came into focus whilst reading those words. The sound, for a moment, was overwhelming.
Very beautifuly written.
If there were a blog Grammy it should be duely awarded to youself.
God bless.
& Cheers.
D.
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