Little stones

She has left behind little stones for my walk.

Naked with absolute fear I move forward.

I am anticipating each step and my feet cringe with disbelief that these small rocks shall keep me afloat.

She left an enchanted path of riddles and rhymes.

As though I was here before but never yet again.

My eyes captured by the yellow moon-light and the sweet green leaves drooping with dew.

She left me crumbs of thoughts which help me sew the seams of this reality while I am learning to let go.

She left me a trail crooked and wide.

As though all such content is composed of shades and lines.

She sends me messages by way of a wicked crow.

Always telling me that it is the little things I need to know.