To You, exalted Angel,

I pray and give thanks even in happiness.

Your eyes are a path,

your eyes are deep as the ocean.

Your sword is sharp,

cutting through all knots,

all pain and injustice.

Your wings are my protection —

with them, mercifully and without touch,

you embraced my soul.

You have your army,

your path is the path of righteousness.

You granted me mercy

which I open only in the secrecy of the heart.

Last night, Your feather touched me,

sent through a guide —

it makes incisions,

it hurts, yet it liberates.

My words flew like comets

in different directions,

seeking forgiveness.

Your words of comfort

guarded my secrets.

My heart is a witness

that coincidences do not exist:

with every wound there is a healer,

with every tear — a hand holding a handkerchief,

with every cry — a word of solace.

I know You protect me.

I know that when I wish to fall asleep,

Your prayer

becomes a call to awakening.