The Messiah

Namaste! Messiah in me sees the Messiah in you.

Not the polished, pious version, but the wild fire that walked among the forgotten.

I see in your eyes the same holy ache that stirs my own.  The hunger for justice, the quiet longing for peace, the defiant hope that refuses to die. We carry the sacred not as crowns, but as bruises that still glow.

Every breath is a whisper of the divine trying to be heard again. You, too, are the hands that heal, the voice that calls the lost back home.

In your laughter, the heavens remember how to rejoice. In your pain, the prophets weep and nod in recognition.

Let us bow, not in defeat, but in reverence like Messiah to Messiah.

For the holy lives not above us, but between us.