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Prayers

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You've no idea just how much
I pray for you, Beloved.

No; not for you (to be with me
[though I'd gladly be, really]),
just wherever you'd be happy
(with She)
in Him.

Where your confusions (and illusions)
be shattered by the Divine Criterion:
that you are so special, dearest one,
to me,
to Him.

Where all the worldly World's lies
in futility sinks and sighs,
and [by] Evidences [evicted] will depict
your purpose
for Him.

Beloved, you've not a clue
just how much I pray for you.



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