I am not worthy of the hand given to me.

Bowing in shame, I rest my gaze in the shadows of my own filth.

Limited is my understanding to all there is.

Falling to my knees, crying out for to hear.

My breath, my being.

Giving thanks for moon resting by day.

Forgive my thoughts, my actions.

I love the sky which comforts me.

My brothers and sisters who wait for me to return.

Gathering wind beneath my wings I join them once again.

Soaring to highest of heights, kissing the stars far from understanding.

I am worthy…breathing out…ready to extend my hand…Ani Po