Having no Mecca to turn to, I face the beautiful vastness in front of me.

The known and the unknown.

The familiar and the strange.

The new, the old, the gorgeous uncertainty of it all. 

I have always celebrated life for all its quirks and surprises. 

While the blood rushes through my veins, I pray. 

For peace, for goodness, for generosity, for hope, for the moment, for love. 

And especially, for the miracle of wings.