Something so little causes me to fall,
stones in the path or markings on a wall.
Invisible, perhaps, but nonetheless,
it sends me reeling. I have not a guess

to what its meaning for me might reveal.
Am I to change what I’ve just done? The keel
of my small boat keeps me from tipping o’er
so I don’t run aground upon the shore.

Still, pebbles, markings, slits of yellow sun
voice messages to me: What should I shun
and what should I give more attention to?
Each as a signpost points to something new.