Standing next to The Rivers of Babylon we prayed.
I told you to whisper, Sophia, and there on the banks edge,
She will breathe.
In your loneliness, you will cry,
In solitude, you shall find her.
Standing, by the fresh spring waters,
Her voice, will arise new,
Unless you know, she won’t come.
She cannot sojourn the dead,
Not, without your certain, hope.
Only, in the voice filled with life,
Shall she manifest.
The lifeless carry no spirit.
The initiator needs the spark.
Speak, and Sophia will sing.
Listen, and her song, you will hear.
Smile when you know.
She came because you asked.
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Reblogged this on Boondoggling with Bojenn.