Tending to my thoughts and intentions on a stormy night
For the baby that coughs out frail cries in the night
For the eldery that soothe her with tired adoration
For the brother, miles away, who stands through thick and thin on his own
For the sister who is out of reach and thinks she's alone
For the father who taught his son by standing on his own
For the aunt who prefers time alone
For the mother who couldn't bear to be on her own
For the daughter who tends her pains because she's not alone.

The universe recycles the same worn out prayers through out the centuries. They ebb and flow with the people in our lives.

Kneeling down, shaking in fear, the ache in our knees never outgrowing our hearts, the thoughts going out to a even toned phone cord, the events of time unbothered, the
collective emotion our words could never describe, never communicate.
It is the shared sadness, shared worry, shared fear that brings us closer together. Not the belief that a god can help us escape. Not the belief that we can delay death.
The belief that we are not alone.
The belief that we will remain in the thoughts and intentions of others for awhile longer.
help us stay rooted.

it's going to be okay.
you are not alone. your worries were once mine, once a little boy's, an old lady's.
how can you be alone when generations of scattered humanity understood you. history saw your truth reflected in it's rivers and wells of many worlds and it will continue to bounce across space and time, echoing in the caves of people after you.



© All Rights Reserved