In an abundant wood
Of Queen Anne’s lace
dried and brown like bamboo,
the ant scurries its way over fallen
bramble and raspberry thorn,
twisted California poppy blooming orange.
As I lay there, intertwined
listening,
I hear an old man
with an ancient smile
in simple language say –
“Every step is a Prayer.” ¹

Every feather in a wing
every sail set to sea
thread woven as cloth
horn blast in the fog
every step is a Prayer;
each
one hand
holding
Another.

Every medicine taken
line and lure cast
ribbon tied in a bow
hand in the collection plate
home run or base hit;
each one
a Prayer.

Every blood draw and needle stick
tongue taste of envelope glue,
spatula slipped under bubbling eggs,
tender kiss before going to sleep –
each is a step
a test of faith;
every step is a Prayer.

Know each measure of your breath,
the rise and fall
in and out of each moment; 
of every step you take.

Every step is a Prayer
each
One hand
holding
Another

1. Wallace Blak quoting his granfather, Black Elk

Copyright Mark Hannan 1998