keywriter.

devotion.
one.

The storm is strong, all the birds hide and wind roars through narrow alleyways, but i am within these fortified walls — insulation, bricks, cement — and i feel no power, and i am alone
Needing a window to feel through
We hurtle over days forgetting memory and wonder, we swing from one secluded security to the next and we try to leave the mighty beauty of the storm behind us; you remind us and we avoid; you touch us and we fear.

Why do we run? Why do i? We are ones to flee what we need, so why do you make us so? You could create us to never seek knowledge that there are many paths — one toward you and more away — and yet we are driven to know all. All is impossible for us alone, but we desire it, and we stumble. You could place a milder appetite within us. But then what of our desperation for you? You know all. We seek you as we seek escape from you, as we do not know... and as we do not know we seek to know. But you know all. I am yours, now please teach me. I am yours, now please teach me that i am yours.

Open ears to hear your wind. Make me one who could recall that one perfect window you give to us, through whom we can see your face and your storm. We work to place the layers between ourselves and that unflawed glass. So give me a place as a glass (though i am imperfect) through which people can see that one. May grace allow me to be transparent, as transparent as grace allows. Decrease the layers of me that so often seek to obstruct the view of you, and let yourself — you window, you storm, you face — show through me. Open eyes around me and in me. Open ears to hear, and open your mouth to speak through me.

You are the glory of the storm that overwhelms this city, you are the power of the wind that moves rain from rooftop to rooftop, you are the one who knows all, who knows yourself, and you are the one who shows yourself to us who belong to you.

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