Washing in the river. Washing myself clean. Clean of the dirt and grime of a society gone mad. This is the way of my ancestors, to wash in the river away from the frenzies of the city. The water is cool, and my blood runs ice-cold when I step inside. I feel the purity of the saints.
River cleanses me
Of evil impurities
Baptismal waters
When I emerge, I am soaked with the grace of God. Cold, but on fire for a spiritual journey. The others join me, too, washing in the sacred river. A flock of doves touches down on the still water. They are pure and white, like the innocence I used to have before modern society robbed me.
River of saviors
Flowing like ancient prophets
Giving us all strength
(Photo by Nadin Sh from Pexels)
This is really positive and beautiful. Your words flow like a refreshing river. 🙂
Thanks, Terveen! I like to write horror, but I also like to write about my faith. It keeps me going 🙂
I can see it came from the heart.