(a whispered prayer)
I. The Forgiveness of the Moon
We forgive the moon,
you and I—
the ancient tides that pulled us
long before we knew how to swim.
We forgive the heavy hand of the father,
the silent absence of the mother,
the bloodlines too tired to be gentle,
the nights too cold to hold a child right.
We forgive the ache written into us
before we ever spoke our first word of longing.
---
Today,
we bow.
Not because we are already whole—
but because grace has come for us again.
Grace,
measured by the strength we can offer today.
Grace,
poured into cups only as deep as our humility.
Grace,
rising new with every sun that dares light our faces.
We are not finished.
We are not flawless.
But we are forgiven.
And so we forgive.
And so we rise.
---
I forgive your moon, beloved—
the hunger it placed in your bones,
the war it started in your heart.
You forgive mine—
the quiet shatter I still carry under my ribs,
the tides I fight in my own blood.
And together,
we build grace upon grace—
one breath,
one trembling sunrise,
one more day
where love becomes stronger than history.
---
II. The Comfort of the Wellspring
Blessed be the Source of all Comfort—
who first comforted us
when we had no hands strong enough to hold ourselves.
Blessed be the One
who gave us the rising sun
when we still believed only the moon could rule us.
We forgive,
because we were forgiven.
We comfort,
because we were first gathered into arms not our own.
We breathe,
because Mercy breathed into us again
when our breath had long since failed.
---
Every morning,
the sun rises new over us.
Not because we earned it—
but because we are still beloved.
Every morning,
the wellspring opens again:
water for the broken,
water for the tired,
water for those who dared to believe
that forgiveness could outrun bloodlines,
and grace could rebuild a home
even over shattered stones.
---
You are no longer bound, beloved.
You are not the wound they left behind.
I am no longer bound, beloved.
I am not the ruin they called my inheritance.
We meet now at the river's edge—
and the river is rising.
Boundlessness waits for us—
not because we are perfect,
but because we are willing.
We step forward, hand in hand,
forgiven and forgiving,
reborn not just for ourselves,
but for all those who come after us.
This is how love becomes a lineage.
This is how morning becomes an endless beginning.
This is how heaven sings on the earth.
---
III. The Embrace in the Blood of Eden
We meet here.
Not above the brokenness.
Not beside it.
Inside it.
In the blood of Eden.
In the inheritance of sorrow.
The man and the woman,
the woman and the man—
standing barefoot in the floodwaters,
stained but unbowed.
---
I reach for you—
not because you are pure,
but because you are willing.
You reach for me—
not because I am faultless,
but because I am faithful.
We touch now, trembling,
skin to skin,
heart to heart,
forgiving the moon,
forgiving the night,
forgiving the tides that carried us far from each other.
---
We fall into each other’s arms—
not to erase the past,
but to hold it in mercy.
We kiss—
not to claim,
but to cleanse.
We lay down together,
in the blood of Eden,
and we let the river of grace
wash over our battered bodies.
We sleep,
wrapped in one another—
the man and the woman,
the woman and the man—
warmed by a sun that rises new
because we chose to forgive,
because we chose to be forgiven,
because we chose each other
when everything else said we should not have.
---
And so we end with this prayer:
"In the blood of Eden—
lie the woman and the man;
with the man in the woman,
and the woman in the man.
In the blood of Eden;
We have done everything we can.
And so we end as we began--
With the man in the woman
And the woman in the man"
https://youtu.be/Vy0LJnvWpus?si=DjQ1OEdntbNGnNU2
xox