Father, may I breathe in church?

My sweet child,
I have built a home for you
to shelter your innocence
and safe keep the seeds of your dreams
Yet in the building I have lost myself
I held my breath
and could not bear to look at you
for in you I saw the innocence I had lost.

My wild rose,
I have built a temple for you
to shelter your prayers
and echo the voice of God back to you,
yet in the building I have lost myself,
I held my breath
and I could not hear the choir of angels
singing through your voice.

Forgive me,
for in my last prayer inside this temple
I can finally hear you
and your voice is the sound of grace
reclaiming the gift of breath
inside the church of this body.

Forgive me,
for in my last breath
I am whispering to you
I can finally see you
and you are beautiful,
You are precious,
You are strong
like the wild roses
in the garden I have forsaken for so long.

I thought I was here to protect you
and teach you the ruthless ways of this world
yet in the end, I see
it was you all along
teaching me that
I am safe to be here,
I am safe to surrender my breath to this love.

*To Cecilia and her garden of oak trees and wild roses, with love and reverence