The nature of the Divine is such that no one who actually experiences the reality would entertain any sort of belief. Prayer arises only in separation from that Radiance. Actual taste of the Infinite annihilates language and consumes thought in the fire of naked awareness.
Without any theology whatsoever, one simply sings, not in words but in kirtan, fiery syllables of ecstasy: Om, Ah, Hum, Ma, Hrim, Shrim, Ram, Alla'hu!
Mantric sound vibrates and organizes darkness into light, prior to thought. Creation is not meaning but energy. What does a flower "mean"? What does a mountain "mean"? What does pain "mean"? The taste of honey on your tongue? The ever-expanding bliss of pure consciousness? Real meditation frees the mind from the tyranny of concepts.
The ecstatic one stops philosophizing and just starts humming. At the birth of time, this is all God did, and look what happened: She created the universe.