Diary Entry 35

Black night,

we burned our prayers

at your feet,

carried by incense

they went up

with the heat.

Gray morning,

I went outside

and I mournfully found…

the vessel from last night

lying on the ground.

It was filled with water,

though it did not rain…

“Why, oh why dear Lord

would they be drowned

in vain?”

“Oh, my child, don’t you see?

It is not rain that I sent,

but filled with fallen tears

as Heaven’s knee bent.”

White light,

shining upon my breast

as His words penetrate

that smoky blessed;

never fret your prayers

be forgotten

for water makes ALL

that is faithful blossom.