She was a simple woman, but not. Not really.
Each day after lunch she would walk under the cherry blossoms to the fountain at the far end of the park.
On the way there, she thanked God for small things
and big things, all the things. On the way back,
she prayed for this, for that, for all the things.
Sometimes the Earth shuddered under her steps and decisions made faraway were altered. The sun shone brighter or rain fell and flowers bloomed. On some
days her prayers changed the world. On
other days, her prayers changed her.
She was a simple woman, but not. Not even close.