Definitions by From Saint Agnes to Egypt
529
529 by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 10, 2026
1122
God, please,
I do not know what is truly best for him.
All I know is that whatever he longs for, I long for with all my heart.
Grant me blamelessness in his eyes,
and let me stand pure and steadfast before the power of love itself.
May his heart be safe in love’s embrace, and may every moment of his life shine with the light he deserves.
I do not know what is truly best for him.
All I know is that whatever he longs for, I long for with all my heart.
Grant me blamelessness in his eyes,
and let me stand pure and steadfast before the power of love itself.
May his heart be safe in love’s embrace, and may every moment of his life shine with the light he deserves.
1122 — For His Happiness
1122 by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 10, 2026
852
It is the Rhythm of Our Love.
I’m ready to trade the fleeting visions —
those brief, vivid sparks I’ve only ever felt in my mind —
for something real, something I can truly experience…
But how?
Please, guide me.
I’m ready to trade the fleeting visions —
those brief, vivid sparks I’ve only ever felt in my mind —
for something real, something I can truly experience…
But how?
Please, guide me.
852 by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 10, 2026
1400
My head was on the pillow and I counted the days I hadn’t seen you.
That day I thought, “Maybe this is only my path. If so, I have no right to involve anyone.”
In a moment, deep grief rushed in like a wave and pulled me away, as if into another world.
I was no longer in the bedroom. I found myself on a sloped stone street with old houses, heavy doors, and small windows.
I walked uphill as if in another body. I couldn’t see the sea, but I felt it close and knew where I was going.
At the top stood a two-story house with a few steps and a solid wooden door. Inside, a wooden staircase. Second floor, second door on the left.
A room with a large wooden chair in the center.
You were there, wearing a white shirt with wide sleeves.
I ran to you, laid my head on your chest, in your arms—boundless peace.
Suddenly I was pulled back.
My head was on the pillow, yet I still felt your chest.
I don’t know if it was a dream or something else, when imagination and reality dissolved.
I was no longer sad or longing.
Maybe I live my life in my sleep.
That day I thought, “Maybe this is only my path. If so, I have no right to involve anyone.”
In a moment, deep grief rushed in like a wave and pulled me away, as if into another world.
I was no longer in the bedroom. I found myself on a sloped stone street with old houses, heavy doors, and small windows.
I walked uphill as if in another body. I couldn’t see the sea, but I felt it close and knew where I was going.
At the top stood a two-story house with a few steps and a solid wooden door. Inside, a wooden staircase. Second floor, second door on the left.
A room with a large wooden chair in the center.
You were there, wearing a white shirt with wide sleeves.
I ran to you, laid my head on your chest, in your arms—boundless peace.
Suddenly I was pulled back.
My head was on the pillow, yet I still felt your chest.
I don’t know if it was a dream or something else, when imagination and reality dissolved.
I was no longer sad or longing.
Maybe I live my life in my sleep.
1400 by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 8, 2026
The Light That Finds Us
Those early days of the journey,
when I had just made peace
with lucid dreams,
one night, after I realized
that in my dream
I had passed through a wall,
I rolled onto the branches of a pine tree,
and at the very last moment,
a cool, gentle breeze
held me between earth and sky.
On a quiet yet luminous night,
above scattered hills,
each cradling a small house with its light on,
it lifted me into flight.
A guitar was playing,
and a woman, with a voice like mine
but softer,
was humming a tender song
about a love that never became whole.
That day, as I flew above the unconscious,
I did not know
that the vow we had made
was remembered by the collective soul,
and that to heal its wounds
it would return to our love.
Now I know
that it always washes itself
in the love of lovers,
warms itself with their warm breaths,
and drinks from the light of hope
that springs from their hearts,
and comes alive again—
for peace,
for survival.
Even if we are born
a thousand times more,
it will find you and me again,
and in our unconscious
bind us together once more.
when I had just made peace
with lucid dreams,
one night, after I realized
that in my dream
I had passed through a wall,
I rolled onto the branches of a pine tree,
and at the very last moment,
a cool, gentle breeze
held me between earth and sky.
On a quiet yet luminous night,
above scattered hills,
each cradling a small house with its light on,
it lifted me into flight.
A guitar was playing,
and a woman, with a voice like mine
but softer,
was humming a tender song
about a love that never became whole.
That day, as I flew above the unconscious,
I did not know
that the vow we had made
was remembered by the collective soul,
and that to heal its wounds
it would return to our love.
Now I know
that it always washes itself
in the love of lovers,
warms itself with their warm breaths,
and drinks from the light of hope
that springs from their hearts,
and comes alive again—
for peace,
for survival.
Even if we are born
a thousand times more,
it will find you and me again,
and in our unconscious
bind us together once more.
The Light That Finds Us by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 8, 2026
Collective Soul
Finds lovers
Every time, everywhere.
Their love
Feeds the collective soul,
Keeps it warm,
Heals it,
Nurtures it,
Supports its survival.
Oneness is what lovers experience.
Every time, everywhere.
Their love
Feeds the collective soul,
Keeps it warm,
Heals it,
Nurtures it,
Supports its survival.
Oneness is what lovers experience.
Collective Soul by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 8, 2026
Woman
“I blessed you with love, so a single kiss could make you soar, and the gentle touch of a hand could bring you back to earth.”
“Put down your weapon; secret wars never truly end. Crown yourself with love, and let it grow into the wings of your flight.”
“Put down your weapon; secret wars never truly end. Crown yourself with love, and let it grow into the wings of your flight.”
Woman by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 8, 2026