What if? / Prayers in between.

Its the silence, and sometimes I have to fight against it. To being more quiet, and for peace to be still in the stillness.

Each day is a fight for life, and to make it out to get to the next better day. Theres rumours and things said that are assumptions that dont make sense, either.

And dare I say that we may all end up in the ether?

If we seek no direction.

The people, they keep talking and saying things. I am not one to hear. When I’m not listening.

The heart feels in its own way. I dont defend it. I have accepted my part to play. And I am hungry for the education. And its revelry when I receive something new of learning.

But I am in a bit of a rush.

Im scared for me and for them, and I dont know if I am discovering unwanted knowledge, and if it was meant to be kept in the stillness without interruption. There is wickedness just the same, in the way of the good things, and its obstacles sometimes.

But Im counselled that its been waiting, and noone else answered the call. So I have to take up the arms, with no regret.

Because they didnt leave a will and noone was appointed as the heir or the heiress, but it fell upon me. And I am now catching it in the air, and I have to wave and ride with it. And it was meant to be this way. From the time of my birth.

And there are voices in the deep and in the shade of my dreams, and in the shadows when I glimpse them. They are supposed to give guidance and counseling when it all feels to fall apart at times. In the morning when I awake.

And the dreams stop, and for a time I am left wondering if I did something wrong and if I should go back to the scriptures and find some hidden meaning and messages that were meant for me to find.

Let me out?

And sometimes I think its all lies and I should disregard, but there are portions that make sense and that have survived as wisdom throughout the course of time. And I remember the potions. Of herbs that are meant only for me.

I don’t know if Im doing it right.

But the story of Isis and Osiris gets me thinking that it was copy and paste in sections, and that it was all created to keep us as fools in check. And there is similarities in a lot of ancient mythology and teaching.

And then I disappear into the sadness when the doubt arrives. And I call her and she asks me how my heart is, and I have to face myself and force myself back into prayer and ask for forgiveness for the doubting. And she knows how to speak to me.

Even when we are both confused and searching.

I mount the defences, once again I kneel and I light the candles and I ask for more signs, and for redemption and mercifulness and forgiveness and for healing and for bravery, amongst all of it. And kindness.

Nothing complicated.

And I feel the energy lifting, and I rush through the day with speed. I am empty the next day. But thats fine. I say to me.

I dont want to talk to anyone, else. But I need them to hear me.

Its loud.