When she lobbed a stone at me,
I’d long since taken down the walls
that might have offered protection.
Nothing to do then
but hitch a ride on the stone—
a direct trip to the core.
Had I known how quickly
it could carry me into self-inquiry,
I might have put the stone in her hand.
Nah. Still, I thank her.
Where the stone fell marks the spot
where I was. Already, the soft green moss.