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