I am so angry at the aftertaste of his devotion. He lit a candle with the intention of us, the flame will go out in a week.

Others have knelt. Looked at me with those big tearful eyes.
Gazing.

He trembles like them. He murmurs like them.

Yet he does not worship at my altar.

But how can I expect him to? A man who has so fervently forsaken any god?

All I ask is that you
worship every curve and corner
of my imperfect soul

CLOUDNINE'S THIRTY-THREE PSALMS OF PRAISE TO THE ALMIGHTY**

Oh, Sovereign Lord, creator of the heavens and the earth,
In awe, we lift our voices in praise and worship to You.
You are the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end,
Your majesty and glory beyond comprehension.

You spoke, and galaxies formed,
Your breath gave life to all living beings.
In Your presence, mountains tremble and seas roar,
Yet Your love for us is gentle and tender.

Mighty God, You are our refuge and strength,
A fortress in times of trouble and distress.
Your faithfulness endures through every generation,
Your promises remain steadfast and true.

We praise You for Your boundless grace,
For the gift of salvation through Your Son, Jesus Christ.
In Him, we find forgiveness and redemption,
In Him, we experience abundant life and eternal hope.

Holy Spirit, our comforter and guide,
You dwell within us, empowering and transforming.
Illuminate our hearts and minds with Your wisdom,
That we may walk in Your ways and bear fruit for Your kingdom. Selah

Heavenly Father, we exalt You above all else,
For You alone are worthy of all praise and adoration.
May our lives be a living testimony of Your love and mercy,
As we proclaim Your greatness to the ends of the earth.

Blessed be Your name forever and ever.
Amen!
Great is Your faithfulness, O Lord,
Your love endures forever, unchanging and steadfast.
You are the Shepherd of our souls,
Leading us beside quiet waters, restoring our weary hearts.

In times of darkness, You are our light,
Guiding us with Your truth and grace.
Your presence fills us with peace that surpasses all understanding,
And Your joy strengthens us in every circumstance.

We praise You for Your mercy that knows no bounds,
For Your compassion that never fails.
You hear the cries of the brokenhearted,
And You bind up their wounds with Your gentle touch.

All glory and honor belong to You, O God,
For You alone are holy and righteous.
Let the heavens declare Your glory,
And the earth proclaim Your mighty deeds.
Selah
From the rising of the sun to its setting,
Let Your name be praised in every nation.
May all peoples bow before You in reverence,
And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Amen
Holy, holy, holy is thy Lord. Selah

Oh Lord, Your love surrounds us like a mighty fortress,
Your peace guards our hearts in the midst of storms.
In You, we find strength to overcome,
For Your power is made perfect in our weakness.

You are the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end,
In You, all things hold together and find their purpose.
Your wisdom surpasses all understanding,
And Your ways are higher than our ways. Selah

We praise You for Your faithfulness throughout history,
From generation to generation, Your promises endure.
You are our Provider, sustaining us with Your abundance,
And our Protector, shielding us from harm.
Amen
Let the heavens rejoice and the earth be glad,
For You have done marvelous deeds among us.

Your righteousness shines like the noonday sun,
And Your justice upholds the oppressed and downtrodden. Selah

We lift our voices in thanksgiving and adoration,
For You have rescued us from darkness into Your marvelous light.
You have called us by name and adopted us as Your children,
Sealing us with Your Holy Spirit as a guarantee of our inheritance.

All glory, honor, and praise belong to You alone,
For You are worthy of all worship and praise.
May our lives be a living sacrifice, pleasing to Your sight,
As we declare Your greatness and proclaim Your salvation to all nations. Selah

Blessed be Your name forever and ever,
In You, we find hope that does not disappoint.

Let Your kingdom come and Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,
For Yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, now and forevermore.
Amen. Selah!!

--Cloudnine Fairmane C9fm.

When we offer
a sacrifice of praise,
our lives as living psalters,
are our hearts altered?

My love, my guiding light,
shield me from the horrors
of this mortal world's blight--
the sorrow, and the pain,
and blood running into rivers
like rain.
I close my eyes and curse my sight.
But as I turn to you, your image
blocks out the deepening night.
I imagine your hand, your fingers touching mine
(though you will never be mine). With you,
I am home. I walk through the night
to where it is always day; I shall never be alone.

“I don’t know if anyone could ever love me,” you say.

“Don’t you see how I worship you?” I scream with my thoughts, but you can’t hear me anyway. I debate, asking you, whispering in your ear.

Instead, I am silent, unsure of how to comfort you. I don’t want to tell you that I love you, not yet.

So I close my eyes and trace my fingers along the lines of your jaw, cheeks, nose, and eyebrows.

I touch you like one would handle a porcelain teacup. You could break if I don’t think about keeping my fingers light as I follow the fine craftsmanship all across your back.

I don’t tell you the words of praise and admiration I trace into your back as you crane into my touch. The body absorbs what the mind cannot fathom.

I place kisses on your belly, the back of your leg, and the places that are never loved. When I love, I want to love all of you truly.

“No one has ever touched me like this, so softly,” you say, and right then I want to burst into tears. How dare they! How dare they not treat you like artisan bread, like a mural in an alleyway, like freshly molded pottery before it enters the kiln.

What a crime it is that you have never known what it is like to be held for the sake of holding, to know touch that has no fine print and no malice.

You quiver and shake when I touch you like the novelty of this feeling is too much. I make a joke about how sensitive you are, so maybe for a moment, the reality of why is just a joke instead of reality. And for a moment, you can cope.

You don’t like being looked at in these intimate moments, so I think about how I would describe your eyes in a poem instead. I’ve had ample opportunities for this, and I have come up with the following:

The sky with just the right amount of clouds, the kind of day with a light breeze that makes you want to pick blueberries.

The first drop of rain. It always seems to land on your face, like a kiss from Mother Nature.

The newest flower on an orchid plant, only a bud the day before. It is the same color you want at our wedding. It feels like such a far-off thing to me, a vague concept, but to you, it feels like the Save the Dates have just been sent in the mail.

The rest are a bit much.

—

I remember to massage your toes, the ball of your foot, the arch, the heel. You don't like feet, including your own foot, but I am here to love the parts of yourself that you can't love.

I pray to you in my thoughts that you can feel my love through my thumbs rubbing healing circles into your tense shoulders. That somehow, my actions will help you remember what a divine being you are, a god with amnesia.

What are you the god of? I think, maybe, that you are the god of moments. Humorous glances from across an aisle, Dutch ovens, singing too loud on night car rides, vicious tickle fights that end in sweet kisses, interrupting each other at work, finishing each other's thoughts and sentences, taking my glasses off when I fall asleep with them on, tiny routines that are barely considered routines but are done almost without thinking all the same.

I, for the first time, feel seen by a deity. There is no higher power, no sin. There is no wrong. There is only the reverence I give to you, that is expelled by every cell in my body, that consumes every waking thought.

There is you, and there is me. There is us. And that is enough.

Don't you know I worship you?

The main theme of this poem is um, triumph
So uh the secondary theme of this poem is defeat?
How could that be? Is that even what a poem is?
Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

Something crawls up from the drain through the ***** dishes and out of the sink. It grips me! It’s got me!

[This is the part I want to hide]

I saw a man so beautiful
Rarely is there ever a beautiful man--
a man so beautiful you want to kneel
and scream “You’re so beautiful!”
But instead I’ll worship him in the ways he insists:
by stepping aside on the sidewalk,
by laughing at the jokes he steals from me,
by squandering the money he pays me to do his job.

Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

It took me three to four years to learn
the difference between worshiping and begging,
between faith and belief
And now I have neither and engage in both and yet
My life feels like a free coffee and bagel
My life feels like an unwrapped candy bar
My life feels like a compliment from a stranger
My life feels like a birthday card with cash in it
Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

This is my once-yearly poem.
It’s like a broken perfume bottle at the bottom of my bag.
Look at it-- read it. Smell it.  Literal swill.  Most things make me feel sad, even more things make me feel threatened, especially this poem.
What is there to do but put my head in my hands?
What is there to say if not sorry?