I find the crumbs
deep inside the nest
I hold them in my hand and laugh
Before casting them into the river
I whisper a wind prayer
that moves the leaves
and causes the shapes of sky to dance
in the summer breeze
The afternoon sun filters my thought
as the fine dust of reason
ponders and holds me
like a wrapped tallit
I declare my acceptance
of this final consequence
Tonight new stones will appear on my doorstep
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