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I walked on unfamiliar ground today. Leaving thoughts, like bread crumbs, Between the down of thistles and parched green weeds, So I could find my way home if I got scared. Maybe my crumbs were like a prayer, That someone would pass by, And piece together these bits and find my heart. There was innocence in this ritual; I still hoped that casting my bread upon the earth Would yield answers the whole of humanity had not offered.

But there was a surprising wisdom in the journey as well. In the beginning I would have traded my solitude for companionship for fear of wild bears. But here, in the clear light of day after a long walk alone, the slow emptying of my heart for the birds Created the sweetest voice that sang my own silent words.