The comfort and consolation of sleep
restore my body.
Morning comes and I am birthed again
into creation, an infant star
in the universe, a pure drop
of rain falling into the garden,
meant to provide, not
possess.
Sleep restores my body, but only the
Sacred Mystery can restore my soul.
That Which is, alone, can mend
and mold and make new
again and again.
Time is irrelevant to time’s Creator.
My life is not about time. It is
about compassionate
restoration,
received
and
given.
May the fullest reality of
he restores my soul
guide me through
this day.
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