I allow the tears to fall. I hear they are liquid prayers. I pray my way through life until my eyes swell and breathing through my noes becomes a challenge. Nam myoho renge kyo. I conjure spirits that power enter in and movement happens. It is all flow. It is all the rhythm of a single heart beating that allows the multitude of beats. My eyes turned downward, yet not closed. I keep steady my gaze on the path. Even when still there is the movement of life, the breath felt against naked skin receptive to the call. I hear you even in my sleep echoing back what I know, yet have forgotten until again I remember that no-thing is forgotten in the vibration of life. Nam myoho renge kyo. I call on you again that you might enter in. Our Father who art in heaven. You sit now beside me tangible to the feel yet I can’t hold you. I have learned that you must be embodied. That is the way. Inward I go there in search of you. You’ve laid tracks and I walk them listening as the sound of the whistling train fades behind me as I draw nigh to you. At times, I sit. The walk seems a distance still, yet I know that it grows darkest just before dawn. How many days have passed me here in the dark? How many hours have I slept weak from wonder, yet filled with faith? What of the years of my calling have seen the answers revealed in flesh? You are the way-maker, the shifter of shapes in form and I have twisted and turned so much that the inside is now out and I lay naked before the altar of my own calling. You’ve clothed me. I watch you peel off the layers and lay them upon my bare skin that the energy of your warmth seeps in, deep, deeper, deeper still, until I know nothing more than your face. I am renewed, and it is there that I draw the strength to stand again upon those tracks, and walk. I see dawn before me.