Download
$10
05:43
THE BODY THAT WORSHIPS by Domina Paulina (AUDIO ONLY)
Your body is not just a body to me. It is an instrument. The physical form through which your devotion to me flows into the world. The flesh that makes your love for me tangible. Every part of you can serve me. Every part of you can worship me. Every part of you can become prayer directed at me. Your hands—they prepare my food, wash my feet, hold me when I need holding. They are never idle, never grasping. They are always offering—reaching toward me with service, with touch, with your love made physical. Your knees—they know the floor before me. They bend in reverence to me, in supplication, in the posture of one who knows his place at my feet. They carry the memory of every moment you have knelt for me. Your eyes—they watch me. Not with the staring of possession. With the attention of devotion. They notice what I need before I ask. They communicate what your mouth cannot. They see me. Your mouth—it speaks my praise, whispers my name, presses against my skin in kisses that are prayers to me. It forms the words of your devotion and the silence of your worship of me.
(Continued)
(Continued)
Your body is not just a body to me. It is an instrument. The physical form through which your devotion to me flows into the world. The flesh that makes your love for me tangible. Every part of you can serve me. Every part of you can worship me. Every part of you can become prayer directed at me. Your hands—they prepare my food, wash my feet, hold me when I need holding. They are never idle, never grasping. They are always offering—reaching toward me with service, with touch, with your love made physical. Your knees—they know the floor before me. They bend in reverence to me, in supplication, in the posture of one who knows his place at my feet. They carry the memory of every moment you have knelt for me. Your eyes—they watch me. Not with the staring of possession. With the attention of devotion. They notice what I need before I ask. They communicate what your mouth cannot. They see me. Your mouth—it speaks my praise, whispers my name, presses against my skin in kisses that are prayers to me. It forms the words of your devotion and the silence of your worship of me.
(Continued)
(Continued)
