little by little, i'm stepping deeper and deeper into the Holy of Hollies, the place now opened from top to bottom when He whispered it is finished. and the ground shook with the intensity of how much He desired me. and now i'm shrouded in veils with Him, a tent in the wild.
and i'm seeking, floating like a mermaid with fingers through the seaweed, sinking deeper and deeper in the water until i close my eyes and let myself drown to be risen again with a new name, a moniker of Light.
:: oh let my prayer
be counted as incense
why do we fear the candlelight and the whispered repeated words and the sweet smell of incense rising to the heavens in a cloud of delicate worship? it's so strange when we look at the words and somehow wrap them up in a Church-appropriate package with a bow on top and pass it out as the only way allowed.
because He went to the mountain for peace be still, and i'm following in His footsteps, or at least i'm learning how to walk that way. for now, i'm riding on the Lion's back like a lamb with a broken leg. and i have a warm blanket for those cold winter nights among the fur trees with the stars above singing His glory.
and i'm drawing a circle in the dirt and sitting there with candles lit around me. and i'm worshiping here in my wilder-ness to the One Who Sees, to the Wild-Maker who tucks feathers behind my ear and whispers
rise up on eagle's wings, daughter
and I will teach you how to fly