Celestial sooth

The ache of mundane living
Eased up as the sweet flow
Of celestial grace peeped at me
From their beautiful pinkish clouds!

Why, celestial grace, aimed to guide
Fallen souls towards their destinations
So as to allow them to choose, for themselves,
Whether they wish to be saved
From the mundane filth
Or to crawl back to it
Remains that which fills me,
From head to toe,
With a feeling of bliss!

Pray, grace comes in all forms,
Be it in a spiritual awakening
Or in the guise of love,
Grace is simply meant to be accepted,
To be adapted to,
To be submitted to
And to treasured
Nothing else is real about this world
Except for it!

The ache of my own life
Eased up,
When the skies spoke to me
Since then,
I have been allowing myself
To go with its flow
Even if sometimes, I felt like
I was an inexperienced surfer
Lost in the swells of raging seas
Or, at other times,
Like I was a miner
Treading further into dead ends
Rather than finding my way out!

For nothing matters to me
Other than acting out as the skies wished
Pray, love, when gifted from the Gods
Is surely meant to be kept on an altar
And venerated everyday
By watering it,
With crystal clear waters
So that it blooms and gets penned
Into a love story
Which shall be spoken about
By each and every soul
Visiting this mundane plane!

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