Affectionately calling my soul’s shadow back to me, dearly beloved, the war of love, is not the battle of breads of those who have no crumbs,
but, the war of love is softly singing every note wrong, apologizing when you can’t hear the melody of justice,
the war of love, is softly sitting at the edge of life, showing up for that last ride on the merry go round, even when you know love may never make it home,
not a moment of silence not a whispering plea let the world fall to its’ knees
let this prayer hold weight with arms and legs that change petty things such as gun laws, that hold ruthless evils and keep- senseless death from happening
Dear love, keep our children that they may have a better chance to run and roam free
Put your arms around me we need it more than ever now….
our prayers are for Uvalde ,for our school children and all those effected …. Poet Krissy Mosley
Writing myself whole, was never about fixing myself . More so, it is about being myself. Nurturing without judgment. Self -acceptance at a deeper level. Not waiting for the world to accept me. In that notion, I now have the courage to accept my past as sacred, like the cocoon of the butterfly.
This is the raw material of the journey, the mere process of being carried by the light. Excuse me, let me rephrase, allowing the light to carry me. Like silk is spun in the darkness.
The light was always around me. The light was always willing. Waking me up in the morning. Glaring down on me in the afternoon. It’s just- I’m more receptive to its beams, allowing its rays to engulf the beauty of my dark circles -of Who and what I am to yet become. As the old gospel blares its horn, “walk in the light, the beautiful light shines all around us by day and by night. ”
Nurturing my own darkness is just as important as nurturing the light. One day I woke up with that epiphany that darkness and light must always walk together. Or we wouldn’t have the one without the other.
I can hear my great-Aunt Yula speaking to me in her low-husky 101 age -old- whisper “now “babie, you can’t go off and have sun without the- Good-lord’s-rain, ain’t no sense in thinking, you gonna grow up with God’s good, not the bad times too babie, so just hush-up now ” Crying on my good china. I could’ve set out the paper plates for all that”
I’d just laugh and whimper a little more….
We need the night, just as much as we need light. In the past I wanted to hide from my problems, separate myself from the issues. And when I couldn’t I’d justify why things couldn’t be more wholesome in my life. Believe me, I had a long iron-clad list.
Krissy Mosley
When I say I’m better now, I’m on the journey of embracing, gaps in my teeth, my brown skin. And that’s just the surface, working on the inner parts of knowing I’m on the verge of the Great Love Spirit, of all life, all good ,all kind, all miraculous and as much as I hate to admit that means all the hell I’ve gone through, and everything in between.
This is Great-love- Spirit- revelation, in that the pendulum swings hard in both directions. And through- it- all, light is still there to carry us. fire was there, to teach me how I burn, clean and miraculous down to the bone. and never forget its’ rage, That same rage taught me that love is a rage too, love hard, love inch by inch, down to the bone.
I know I’ve been missing in action quite a bit. Okay, it’s been a while. Even though I haven’t posted prayers until this one. I’m grateful to keep my prayer life. I heard a great man once say “Knocked down seven, get- up eight.” I guess in many ways, a lot of us all across the world are feeling tossed and torn with the vicissitudes of life. If I started talking about all the things that were wrong, I’d have no energy left to speak of the miracles “through the dark nights of the soul.”
Right here in the silence, tiny pecks of the keyboard echo loudly. How to begin again? At the scratch of it. In the stillness , nothing but nothing, thoughts overtaking another. Picture a cloud he says, “thoughts like clouds, heavy, bursting with tears of rain.”
My prayer begins, Hi God. Can you hold all of this? Do you have somewhere special, Where can you put war and suffering? All of this, is more that a cloud passing there’s thunder, agony, soldiers on the rise.
created and spoken by the author of this blog Krissy Mosley
written and spoken by the author of VisionarieKindness (kindness sister Krissy)
In Between ourselves and the road we must, face o’ God allow our prayers to quake as thunder, allow our tears to hold courage in the face of adversity. Shower down healings’ for the nation. And synchronize our prayers with those who have marched on before us, those who have prayed us through darkest of nights. Where the stairs are torn and floor boards are bare.
We stand in agreement with those “fervent effectual prayers of the righteous” those who press toward the mark of the prize of high calling … with those that are not ashamed to say the name of Jesus in the morning, say the name of Jesus in the darkness of times
synergize our prayers with faith and work and watch our faith go to work
I am Eva -former refugee, doctor and a writer. My parents were Holocaust survivors, I escaped communism. I wrote a novel, mixing family stories and fiction. A novel about Holocaust, communism, racism and emigration. What makes people leave, and what happens to the ones who do, and to the ones who stay. I believe these old stories are more important now than ever before.