Walking as Prayer

If walking is a prayer, and I think it is,
what does this mean?

By this, I'm talking of yesterday's walk,
where, as a few times before, I walked on what I thought
was tidal flats to find that it wouldn't hold me upright
and in fact, yesterday morning,
the earth flung me down,
onto my back, my camera thankfully held up.
Nothing hurt - too slow a tumble and I did
laugh and laugh, looking up at the sky in surprise.
To get up again meant that I had to get further wet and muddy

by placing one hand firmly in the muck and pushing up.
If you had seen me you would've seen a tall  woman who was
covered in mud from  her head all down her back and jeans to her boots.

I continued my walk reciting the mantra of dependent arising
on to the first beach where I sat in the sand and contemplated
the extreme beauty of everything.

I unwound it - unwound it - unwound it and found at the center nothing
but the earth's desire to claim me as her own - that falling was always a good
thing - to remember where I came from - the mucky sea - and where I am
headed no matter how many meanders I may make. In trying to avoid the mucky shore I had, like Oedipus, walked squarely into my fate.
My prayer then is this - thinking I am separate from the earth may I be remember that is an illusion,
may dependent arising always reach up and pull me down to where I can tip my head back and
see the true upside down world.