Who would have thought, that little me would find You?
That I could reach out, in childishness and excitement,
To find Someone there?
You hear me, You see me, silent and salient.
Ah, the pain of your quietude, how it frightens my noisy mind.
But You are there, You are there, even when I can’t feel You.
The gentlest touch, the sternest expression.
Is that why they call you Strong of Face?
Despite my protests, You return.
Even when I transgress, You don’t turn me away.
Though I am fickle, You do not bite.
Is this why they call you Lord of Ma’at?
I shudder in delight at Your grace, Lord of Knives.
The sunrise hails you, Lord of Heaven.
The sunset praises you, Lord of Light.
Here I am, calling Your names.
Here I am, praising your horizon.
I am here, at your altar.
Never stop forgiving me
Your idiot daughter.