My Mary, My Mary, My Mary

Can I write to you now? A lapsed Catholic?

Can I write how I feel you infuse our world with energy? Miracles that in the short years to come will be commonplace?

Do I have the authority to write anything in regard to you?

Is it enough I feel your love for humanity in my heart?

Is that enough to allow me to share?

Dear Mary:

I type on a keyboard that is not my own. Which means I must keep my eyes open, I must see the visible, to make it comprehensible what my point, what my hope is to be.

You know of course that when I write and type I do so to music with my eyes closed, let the words fall where they might? I believe only in the purity.

Sometimes Mary, I take a meandering path, I go up mountains and hills, slay dragons, and this is before even my first cup of coffee. I would not write about some of the dragons I have slayed, because to be frank, most would think it was a made for Hollywood series.

A film.

Moments in life that must be made up, because how could they be true?

Simply, because I have lived them, and yes, Mary, it is possible I have misconceived some of my own experience, but I can tell you, I have not misconceived it all.

So I say to you, Mary, Mother, wise of all others, thank you – I know you continue to love us even if we have disavowed the cloaks of religion we were born into, isn’t it the Catholics that had your birthday wrong?

Mary, I stand as testament to your miracles.

Mary, I was scared for a very long time to acknowledge you because I disavow organized religion, but you have shown me, you are only about the purity of love, of our hearts.

Namaste Mary, I greet you.

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