I wash my clothes by hand.
A sacred act of care, of wet cotton fiber threaded together under the sun, dried in the winds then pressed to my body.

These garments dress me in natural beauty and weave my days together while I’m on this walk on earth. Her ground and skies are where my prayers are lifted and sent into the ethers.

I’m purified my smoke and breath, by drum and rattle, by sunrise and set.

I’ve never loved my life more. And so the time comes to take another breath, fully aware of the magic of it all and to slip my body into the day’s fibers, my skin touching the delicate softness of life.

This skin I wear, a garment for my bones.
My bones held together for however long they are until they join the earth in union with all who have walked before me.

Let me hold these garments loosely so when I meet the ground in my final breath, I do so in the deepest of reverence.