Monday, October 27, 2014

The Hopeful Forging of Micheal The Lion's Scabbard


Great one who is God's light with your sword grasped in both hands --its blade sunk deep into the spiritual ocean, the first water.

You who kneel before God, I kneel before you.

Your armour is silver, but it is the nature of gold that you glow with, your form blessed by God's rays.
In awe, my eyes hold yours. You are the light of the world.
 
O Healer, Lion, Calm Abider, with a heart of light I request your help.
Transmute me! Temper my darkness, guide me onto your path.

Take your hand from your sword and grasp me instead, plunge me beneath the waves of purity, baptise me so that I may become like you.

Seal me: my flesh, mind and spirit, to the eternal true light.

I do not know God's true name, nor his shape, I do not know how to worship him or please him. I am as ignorant as you are light.

And I humbly beg for you to change that for me.

Accept me as your squire, although I am made of dust, True King, make of me your scabbard.


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