I talked to my God this morning.
It was beautiful. It was like She heard me mourning in my dreams about things that weren’t really as they seemed...
And I was mourning. For the fantasy within my own reality.
It was like She was watching me trying to sleep. Tossing and turning all night, She was there.
When my eyes got tired of being closed. When pretending became something I cared less about
And I wanted to breathe and feel my reality.
Her hands were there to wipe my tears.
My God was there… I think this is a beautiful thing to share.
My God cares.
My God endures what I endure and doesn’t dare throw any judgment towards me for mourning a dream that manifested in my head and led me to stare at nothing in the air,
In the morning air.
My God loves my hair. My God has the same hair as me
And understands what it means to be viewed and ridiculed as less than.
I talked to my God this morning. But we didn’t really talk. We just shared each other’s presence, purpose, and pain- Sometimes all we can do is live in vain.
My God loves better than me. But She understands that me learning how to love is going to be a difficult journey. Talking to Her in the morning is now necessary.
My God wiped my tears away this morning… and I think this is a beautiful thing to share.
I can’t help but wish you were there.
- Christine Saint
s/o to my God for always being there to wipe my tears.
[Art by Markus Prime]