Stepping Stones

This ritual of stepping on stones out of the dark

has been imagined into existence by a god

or an oddball trickster – and I must cross daily

believing only the latter could create such a

precarious escape. If my two-faced provider

chanced them into being, then I too gamble on

their pattern when nights are the worst – not

just for not seeing [it is a different yet act of

faith all the same] – but because the next day

inevitably follows. When I fall, that too is a

coin-flip away from splatter or levitation, though

either is as fleeting as the occasional winnings.

Here is a rite of passage where the step away is

always ended on a stone stuck in its beginnings.