Prayer pulls the light.
Prayer pulls the light
from the skies
and the birches.
The heart grows,
spreads streams of mercy.
Rivers turn into seas,
my enemies rest.
I have promised you my grief,
my beloved.
I have given you all my nights.
The first word
and its morning,
I take now.
I take your name.
Vaishali Paliwal
Moonwater 