(no subject)

[singingwren]

Esus,
I see you in the silent trees,
In their dark, unreadable sillhouettes.
As the night blue deepens toward blackness,
They speak very softly, very deeply with the Earth beneath.
The night wind rustles their branches,
And they summon a sound that is older
Than prayer itself.

So is this sound I give to you now,
This cry, this prayer built by small hopeful hands.
Mind not the words but the heart behind them
And this seeker of shelter with your name in her eyes.

You are the fire within the oak trees, Esus.
You are the light when will and kindling come together.
You are the stoic splendor of a forest
A thousand years wiser than the child who stands before you.

I am but a sapling to you, patient Esus.
I am but a fawn that rests beneath your great trees.
I seek in you strength and serenity,
Purpose and vision,
Wisdom and peace;
Protect me as you have protected my mothers.
Councel me as you have counceled my fathers.

Esus-Teutates,
As you guided me once,
Guide me again toward home.