A Walker's Prayer.

I pick up my pack and walk.
What else to do?
Dream of blue skies?
There are mountains to climb,
rivers to cross
and sometimes swamps
through which to wade a weary way.

I pick up my pack and walk,
opening my eyes to
flight of bird, slant of sun,
touch of hand
and if sometimes there are tears and grief
too deep to wash away,
let enduring them
increase strength day by day.

I pick up my pack and walk,
companions by my side.
If any disappoint or betray,
free me from bitterness or anger,
weights difficult to bear.
Grant a heart both soft and strong,
a melody sweet and sad,
a tenderly beautiful life-song.

I pick up my pack and walk,
seeing the fading glory in the west,
the stars, the moonlight on the water,
feeling the wrap of velvet night,
desiring two things to light this rutted track-
that this heart can dwell in love
and this mind find riches
in deep search for meaning.