The Voice of a Thousand Prayers
There is this Voice that has always lived within me. It's the kind of Presence that I just knew had shown up long before I ever did; as She already knew the time and place, and all of our surroundings... held the maps, and even, possessed each key we could ever possibly need.
I was her loyal subject as a child, long before my will and perspective had been polluted with useless things like fear and need, or the taste for an ever illusive approval from others who could no longer hear her sweet song.
As the years passed, the outside world continued to grow louder.
The Voice became more of a lonesome and distant echo, as opposed to the roar of light and of love she had been since before my time began. And although I still visited her from time to time, it was not until a debilitating accident that I was left with no other Voice to hear. She came to me by Grace, once more... in memories, in dreams, and then finally, through the tips of my fingers~ like a torrent of desires and necessity that had been lost for far too long.
In losing my mind as I had known it, as well as my physical ability to see the world as others did, I became a newborn in so many ways once more. Moreover, I was forced to remember that this most loyal Voice had never truly left me at all... I had left Myself. This was where I now knew I could begin again.
Today, I am all too grateful to embrace the reality that this "of the world" perspective left me all those years ago. And just as a mother knows when she holds her newborn child for the very first time... my life has never been the same since that soul defining day. I guess one might say that I now live by my own brand of home-grown artistry...stealing away as often as I can, so that I may hear through this timeless keyboard and see through my precious clay. I have given back to the Voice my three most treasured senses in their entirety...that of my vision, what I choose to hear, and touch. And in turn, She thanks me every single day... through the creations of poetry, sculpture, and this limitless compassion that flow so seamlessly through my hands and heart.
I am but Her loyal servant, as She is mine...and I dedicate this new account of artistic majesty to the enchantment of Her boundless Grace...
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