I closed this chapter, and I did.
“Yeh, fitoor mera by Arijit Singh playing in the background”.
When the sound hit its peak, I smiled.
You came to mind.
Ahava.
I looked to the ceiling, I reminisced about the moments of my silly desire. Wanting You.
So I began; ‘Dear God’.
Again I am crippled with this sensation,
A want, of a precious time called Ahava,
Ahava that is not mine.
I'm not asking you to make him mine, I don't think that's your will but my want banging loud adrift.
I pray he is okay,
Playing all the sports and hooping all the hoops he can,
I pray he smiles, yes, his smile is as bright as the sun, how pretty.
I pray everyone around him showers him with your love and brings him closer to you.
That will ease my heart.
Sometimes he wears a long face,
Life throws lemons at him,
Turn them into lemonade,
Make his burden light.
Walk with him in the day, lay with him in the night, be his everlasting light.
1saiah 60:20.
I pray you bring him close to you and warm his heart.
I pray you don't just make him happy but fill him with so much joy.
When he learns to love, teach him to fully grasp, just like Jesus loved.
Amen.
To the one I can't have,
To the sun too far to reach,
To the moon, beautiful at its peak,
I call this prayer ‘Ahava Raba’.
Love doesn't always receive, “that's okay”, I smiled.
This is my gift to you.
A prayer.
I lay flat on my bed,
Still staring at the ceiling.
“Yeh, Fitoor Mera by Arijit Singh still playing”.
Sigh. How beautiful.