A Prayer of Presence

Can you feel the way life moves through you, the way presence gathers in the spaces between breath and silence?

There is a doorway here, always open, always waiting. Step through.

Feel the weight of your body sinking into this moment, the way gravity cradles you, holds you, adores you. The way your breath moves like a tide, rising, falling, whispering secrets only you can hear.

Everything speaks to you. The hush of morning light sliding across your skin, the exhale of wind through the trees, the warmth that lingers after your fingers trace your own collarbone. These are messages. Invitations. A beckoning into the mystery of your own existence.

Reverence lives here. It flows through your hands as they press against your heart. It shimmers in the spaces where silence stretches wide, where sensation deepens, where the unseen brushes against your skin like an ancient memory waking.

Close your eyes. Let your breath slow. Let yourself be touched, by air, by light, by the invisible hands of something vast and tender. Feel the way your body opens, the way your skin awakens, the way sensation ripples like a secret longing to be known.

Presence gathers around you, within you. The hush, the sigh, the stillness. The flicker of something timeless remembering itself through you.

Drink in this moment as though it is holy, because it is. Step deeper into yourself as though you are holy, because you are.

This prayer moves with you. With every inhale, with every touch, with every moment you allow yourself to feel.

Let yourself be claimed by the knowing that has always lived in your bones. And so, soften. Open. Breathe. Let yourself be kissed by the unseen.