Black wool pooled in moonlight

her skirt lay softly on the ground.

Resting her arms on an altar of stone

she fingered a circlet of beads

and quietly prayed

Dark eyes glowed with curiosity

as small figures seperated from bending trees

to drop stones on the fabric lake.

Unmoving she prayed on.

As the sun's rays brushed the tallest leaves

forming shadows of the stones

her prayers were heard,

and were answered.

Susan J. Campbell, 1998