I no longer pray -
now I drink dark chocolate
and let the moon sing to me
I no longer pray -
I let my ancestors dance
through my hips
at the slightest provocation.
I no longer pray -
I go to the river
and howl my ancient pain
into the current.
I no longer pray -
I ache, I desire,
I say "yes" to my longing.
I no longer pray as I was taught
but as the stars crawl
onto my lap like soft animals
at nighttime
and Goddess tucks my hair behind my ears
with gentle fingers of her wind
a new intimacy is uncovered
in everything,
perhaps it's time that I'm finally learning
how to pray.
the fire cannot touch me;
for i have burned too many times.
& the sea can't harm me;
for i have been drowning all my life.
oh but you could rip my heart open,
darling,
for i have never know this love before.
It hurts to wait around for something that you know may never happen... But it hurts even more to walk away when you know it's everything you want.
How can I miss what I have never had?
COMMENTS
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Cadrewolf2
03:35 May 06 2025
excellent
TheRealTh1ng
03:37 May 06 2025
I hear you. And in your words, there’s something raw, something real more honest than any whispered plea to a ceiling ever could be.
You don’t pray. Not in the way they told us we should. But what you’re doing? That is prayer. The kind that doesn’t beg. The kind that doesn’t kneel. The kind that feels like blood memory waking up inside bone.
Letting your ancestors move through you… howling into rivers… accepting the ache instead of pushing it down. That’s communion. That’s sacred. That’s power.
You’re not just learning how to pray. You’re remembering.
And there’s nothing holier than that.