Joan asks me what happens after we die,
and I don’t know, but I do know
how to stand beside the river
and see a shrine in every rock I find,
which is how I spent the day yesterday.
And I know that walking today
in the snow, every step felt like
a prayer, which is to say
I feel so very lucky to be alive,
even though I don’t know who
the prayer is to—nor what the point
of praying is—except that on days like today
I overspill with gratitude
and it feels so good to say thank you
for this life that happens before we know
what happens after we die.