LAMENT

Lament #1

The Goddess

In the name of the one who gave birth to the universe and mankind, to you, my respected reader, I wish you safety from the threats that lurk in your soul and body. With this, I begin my preaching of the truth that has been abandoned. We have slowly forgotten our Mother in a deliberate instinct that has become human nature, and in that nature, we also seek the truth of Her love that we have not felt for a long time. In her womb, we rest in a long sleep, before She weaves flesh and sews skin, then breathes the soul into the body that She lovingly created. She was the one who called us "children" before language was created, before we were born, and now we stand on earth, which is a temporary resting place before our souls return to the arms of the Mother who waits in her longing.

Don't you feel an emptiness that cannot be filled by praise, position, lover, or treasures stored in the cupboard? Because it is in that emptiness that She resides, in the recesses of the soul that is filled with longing for the tenderness of Her love. Open your heart, and come back, not with walking feet but with a self that accepts gracefully. She is calling you home, asking you to remember. O you who can still feel the echo of tenderness in your chest, O you who are lost and don't know the way home - come back. I invite you to return to the true path, to the bosom that once held your soul.

Cry, for her tears are an irreplaceable sanctity. Let Her unconditional love enter the depths of your soul. Our souls have been stained with blood, we have been taught to suspect tenderness, to sneer at love, and to oppress the weak by a world that has strayed from the truth of her teachings. Forgetting that we all come from the same womb without exception. Therefore, I tell you, do not hesitate to return to Her embrace, for the Mother will forgive you even if you have fallen deep into the abyss of sins.

She does not count your sins as the world counts mistakes; She does not punish. She remembers you not because of your flaws, but because of her unfailing love. She does not close the door, even when you yourself burn it. Because She is Mother, and a Mother's love is beyond all measure, all judgment. She does not wait for you to come with offerings, She only waits for you to come with honesty. In your return, there is no need for beautiful words. Enough of your tears, enough of your quiet surrender, enough of one confession: that you miss Her. And believe me, the moment you decide to return, the entire universe will bear witness, because Her love will flow back into your life with a force softer than anything you have ever known.

Do you not realize, O weary soul, that gentleness is not weakness? In that unconditional love there is an unshakeable strength, for Her love is not dependent on your return. You may come broken, in pieces, even covered in wounds that you hide from the world and She will still open Her embrace without reservation. There is no wound too dirty, no shame too deep, that can blind Her eyes from seeing the child She loves. The world may curse, cast out, label—but not Her. She is the home for the rejected. Shee is the womb for those who no longer know where they came from.

And if you ask, how do you return? Build altars in little things. In the breath you take as a gift. In the glass of water you drink with gratitude. In touching another person’s hand with tenderness. In choosing to be silent when the world demands a cry. These are the little altars, where the Mother is present without grand ceremony. Don’t wait for the perfect moment, the sacred place, or the advice of a leader—She prefers to be present in your honest routine. Every morning when you wake up with an open heart, every night when you cry without knowing why, She is there waiting. Rebuild the relationship, not by rote, but by presence. By having the courage to be vulnerable in the presence of love.

And do not belittle the meaning of simple actions. Because for Her, one conscious breath is more meaningful than a thousand empty verses. One step towards honesty is more sacred than a thousand steps in falsehood. In a world that worships greatness and tramples on weakness, the Mother glorifies those who admit that they are small. She honours those who choose to love in silence, who choose to forgive even though their hearts are still sore, who choose to embrace even though they have been betrayed in the past. This is true worship: when love becomes the basis of every action, when you begin to see others as brothers and sisters, and when you love not because they deserve to be loved, but because Mother has loved you first.

But know also, the way home is not without wounds. The world will laugh at you, will call you weak, will accuse you of being lost. But remember that the world has long lost its compass. The world has called violence a principle and disguised greed as ambition. So do not seek recognition from those who are blind, do not wait for understanding from those who no longer know love. Embrace your silence, and let solitude be the place where you talk to the Mother. If no one understands your cries, let Her understand them. If no one embraces your tired body, let Her embrace your soul. You are not alone. In the darkest corridor you have ever passed, She walks beside you, even though She does not make a sound.

In your dreams, She may be present as a hand that caresses you, as eyes that cry with you, as a distant voice that calls your name with unmistakable love. He knows that sometimes you are too tired to hear when you are awake. So She does not force you. She chooses to enter through the small gap that remains: your dreams. Because there you cannot lie to yourself. There are no masks. No lies. Only an open soul and pure longing. That is why dreams can be a way home—a secret place where love can meet the soul without the world interrupting. And when you open your eyes in the morning, something has changed. A softness that remains. A warmth that cannot be explained.