To my father

Amidst the bustling crowd, she wandered—a seeker in the cathedral of youth. There, she glimpsed her father, his eyes etched with salt, memories eternally etched into the grooves of his face. His bald head, once a fortress, now bore the patina of time, stainless steel skin beginning to rust. The passage of years had softened him, made him vulnerable.
Salt also stung her own eyes, love as gentle as a sea-breeze. Conversations unfolded like prayers, each word a sacred offering. Children whispered supplications to other children, their innocence a hymn. Mothers, too, prayed to fathers, seeking solace in shared devotion. The wind, that unseen devotee, whispered its entreaties to water—waves upon waves, a crescendo of longing.
Beneath the surface, underwater prayers swirled—a silent chorus of hopes and fears. Above, overwater prayers danced on the crests of waves, buoyant and weightless. Some sank, heavy with unspoken desires, while others soared, gigantic and fervent. Titanic prayers, like ancient vessels, navigated the vast expanse of existence.
And the moon, that celestial conductor, presided over it all. Its silvery glow, once pristine, now bore the rust of countless nights. Like a lighthouse on a distant hill, it guided souls through the labyrinth of prayer. Her mouth, a portal to sanctity, swung open—a door revealing a carpet of syllables, each one a room in the palace of devotion.
Beyond her lips, wildflowers bloomed—an efflorescence of faith. Her skin, a prairie of whispered wishes, absorbed the sun’s benediction. And in this unspoken symphony, they were a prayer not uttered, a sacred silence. Namaste—the divine in her recognized the divine in all. ❤️

Note: “Namaste” is a Sanskrit greeting that acknowledges the divine spark within each person. 🙏🌸

©️Beatriz Esmer