Poetry / Prayers

In the Presence of the King


I crept into the Throne Room of Heaven.  Holding my daughters hand, with my other on her fevered brow, I entered, hoping for a word; a plea. 

Secluded behind a pillar, I waited.  I doubted my right to be here; my position. But my gown gave me away, a full crisp gown of pure white silk, rustling as I crouched.  With jewels hanging around my neck and with a sparkling crown, how could anyone hide? I am a daughter of the King.

Smoothing my gown I heard these words;  ‘Come closer my beautiful ones, come boldly to me. I see your need, I feel your pain, come right here to me’

So straightening my gown and adjusting my stance, I rose up, invited, belonging, and stepped boldly towards the King.

Petrina Kent

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