Book of The Mantis: A Living Scripture

In the first hour of quiet,

before the sun names the day,

she is already there.

She is stitched into the green like intention,

unmoved, unannounced,

a figure the wind dares not interrupt.

No choir sings her arrival.

No thunder crowns her holy.

Yet she stands..

or rather, she bows..

as if the earth itself taught her

how to bend without breaking.

Photo from pexels.com A beautiful praying mantis

Her limbs fold into prayer

not as ritual,

but as instinct older than language.

A posture carved long before pulpits,

before ink dared to call itself sacred.

If you look too quickly, you will miss her.

And that is the lesson.

Because revelation

has never belonged to the impatient.

She does not beg the sky for provision.

She does not plead with the unseen.

She becomes still enough for the unseen to approach her.

There is a gospel in that..

written not in parables,

but in presence.

Watch closely.

Even the unseen honors what refuses to rush.

Crimson Steed is a reflective writer and contributor exploring faith, transition, womanhood, and the sacred rhythms of growth. Her work centers on spiritual insight, emotional honesty, and the quiet wisdom found in seasons of waiting and becoming. Her reflections invite readers to release shame, honor the process, and trust divine timing.

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