A Prayer: Calm Within the Storm

To You, the One Most High,
I send this prayer.
It is not with words,
But with the light from my heart.
Words may tarnish
What I truly feel.

I am of Light, am I not?
Light speaks my truth.
You know me as I truly shine,
And even I am still studying
All the facets of my light
To discover my soul mind.

But You know Me,
My dimensional glow,
My powers and also
Each crack in my face
Shattering my facade.
I cannot lie to the One Most High.

Let me open my heart to You so
That You might read my truth.
May I say, I am hurting.
It shows in my light, does it not?
Is this the death of self,
Or new growth of soul?
Which is it?

All the suffering I see,
All the pain I feel,
It is in my light.
It is dimming my light
Into shadows of fear and remorse.

So I kneel in prayer
To the One Most High.
May I release it to You to be
Transformed into dust for
New stars,
Rather than building a taller wall
Around my heart?

I feel those dense walls of
Heavy stone and mortar
Slowly building up over time,
And the bramble of weeds
Stretching to my throat,
My truth succumbing to the drought
Of tears,
Feeling caught up in surviving
A battle of wills.

May I receive healing
And assistance?
Guidance?
May I be blessed? Saved? Anointed?

When I rise up with my arms
To touch You,
I feel Your Light always
As it flows into my veins,
I know. I know.
Yet I battle Your Grace
All too often,
Thinking I can save Myself.
I can do it.
I will do it.

Only I can make this way.
I work so hard for You.
I am enough, am I not?
Am I not Your vase of seeds
For new gardens?
Am I not Your sword
Battling all to carry Your Word
As I rage in this messy confrontation
Of powers and forces all around me?

Humbly, I come to know that
You are never apart from me;
I am You.
I Am You,
A spark of Source Light.
This light in my heart is You.
How can I dismiss it?
How can I taint it with fear?
How can I wall it off,
Resisting gratitude?
How can I address You but
On my own mundane terms?

This pain is illusory,
This way of mine is illusory,
As is ‘I’ and ‘My’.
As is ‘You’ and ‘Your’.
So there are no words
That can express truth.
All that is
Is the Light,
Emanating into and from the heart
As cosmic breath.

Just being in this Light
Without petitioning,
Without crying out,
Without withstanding,
Without beseeching,
Without condemning,
Without apologizing,
Without negotiating,
Without grieving,
Without fearing a fate,
Without playing the drama,…

Just being in this Light,
Just being,
This is enough,
Is it not?
That is the prayer,
Is it not?

That is the prayer.

Martha said to credit the butterfly to Andrew Lumish. He is the guy who cleans the centuries worth of dirt off the old gravestones of mostly fallen heroes and/or their families.