Sacred Smoke

Sometimes the struggles of life are strong

and I have difficulty finding my balance.

In those times my ego stands up

and is heard as I rant and rave

and complain of life.

Gently, quietly a whisper is heard

deep within me.

“ Remember child, remember child

the gift of smoke.”

I listen to the gentle, quiet whisper

deep within me

and gather my sage, sweetgrass and cedar

and with humble gratitude bring

the flame of fire to it,

praying and sometimes beseeching

the Creator to remember me

and listen to my words,

my fears, my tears.

Sacred smoke curls into the wind

lifted higher and higher

on the breath of the Creator.

Sacred smoke carries

my prayers, my fears, my tears

and hope

to the Creator.

“ Listen,” the gentle, quiet whisper says.

“ Listen and hear the love

the Creator sends to you.”

Sometimes with tears filling my eyes

I watch the dance of the

Sacred smoke

as it dances in the breath

of the Creator.

Gently I close my tired eyes,

open my aching heart

and allow the love

of the Creator

to fill me once again.

Thank you Creator

for the gift of

Sacred smoke

to carry my prayers,

my fears and my tears

to you.

Thank you Creator

for the gift of

Sacred smoke

to remind me to listen

and to feel your

precious love

fill me completely.

Sharon Dvorak

September 2007

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