i never kneel, but…
i pray often. call on angels when i am tired, scared, lost. when i remember to. i believe in faeries, especially the find-it kind, am forever conjuring up their aide to re-discover my keys or sense of self, both of which disappear quietly and with great regularity. both of which i always find
i call hard on the universe when my heart hurts, ask for guidance guidance guidance, and patience (but only one of those), and truth and strength and courage to walk tall and steady, to follow this path i’m on, even when i am blindfolded and stumbling, which i am
most of the time.
i believe in manifesting my kisses and whispered words into blue and purple sparkling things and sending them across town to my lover to find him in some smoky bar, playing pool and laughing ; across the state to my bestest friend, where she sits in mourning and heavy hearted; across the world to women caught in the crossfire of natural disaster and lack of resources and pain pain pain.
i believe in magic, in the collective conscious thinly veiled as random coincidence, vibes and auras, tarot cards and the flip of a coin.
did i mention why i am a mother?
some other time then.
i read recently another mama’s thoughts on prayers, how it isn’t about asking for relief of pain or hardship, but for the strength to see them through, and i thought
right on. oh so right on.