Purify My Spirit, A Prayer for My Soul

A poetic prayer to the who holds me together...

Oh, dear Lord, I come before you today, yearning for the purification of my very spirit.
It is a heartfelt entreaty emerging from the depths of my solitude, a short yet poignant prayer arising from a place of profound introspection.
In this sacred moment, we stand face to face, a direct and intimate encounter that feels like a blessing, a divine gift to cherish always.

This meeting, so blessed and extraordinary, feels like a luminous star moment illuminating the canvas of my memory, painting it with colors that can only be described as sacred.
This particular day holds a special significance, forever etched in my soul as a reminder of life's intricate tapestry.
It serves as a vivid recollection of the whispers resonating in my throat, a gentle but powerful reminder of the smooth wine poured during a jubilant wedding celebration.
Its essence cannot be dismissed, for it is steeped in the rich roots of connection and celebration, where joy intertwines with the very air we breathe.

Here, I find myself among the numerous circles of society, often divided and closed off—a world of intellects and contemplatives who gather to ponder the weighty matters of existence.
Yet amidst this maze of knowledge and insight, there are individuals who exhibit a remarkable gift: the ability to pay undivided attention to those who have stumbled in the shadows, to the fallen who seek solace in their embrace.
These are the silent soldiers of our shared humanity, the ones who stand tall, embraced and honored in their quiet resolve.
They invest every penny they possess, saving for brighter tomorrows, while the trappings of wealth rush by them in a blur, leaving behind nothing but the lingering aroma of sighs borne from the heart—heavy with dreams, aspirations, and unspoken fears.

As I navigate this life’s journey, I am reminded to start and finish whatever I set out to create.
My heart remains open, and my arms, ever welcoming, are spread wide to embrace those who enter my world.
My story, reminiscent of puzzling pieces scattered across a vast canvas, waits to be pieced together by the hands of those kindred souls who come across my path.

There, on the street corner, you will find my worn-out boots, hanging as a symbol of my travels and tribulations.
My tongue, once fervent in pursuit of glory, now remains softly anchored in a profound simplicity.
The deep blue of fear may sometimes seep into my veins, yet it battles against the rhythm of my heartbeat, which continues to reverberate with the strength of my words and aspirations.

Indeed, heaven feels alive and ablaze, consumed by the fires of passion and purpose that urge me forward—to never tire, to withstand the challenges thrown my way.
Fire upon fire, I find myself surrounded by an energy that fuels my spirit, igniting the very essence of my being and urging me onward, ready to face whatever lies ahead.