I receive answer to my prayers in the sound of the wind, in the breathing of the river, ice shifting and caving, voices of ones I love saying good words, cries from the cat of the dead now living with me.
I am as the sky, as the moon holding me to ice that no steps have marked, as the river still and draped with snow, heaving ice blocks, as stars fallen on the water, not melting, freezing on its surface.
I am told the same stories over and over. I redream the same dream night after night. The stories must need memorizing.