Pencil Lines

I lay out the stones
on little drawn grids,
faint pencil lines and eraser bits
on cream colored paper.

It almost looks a toy from far away,
maybe marbles
or jacks
but it is a gentle conjure
of new thought.
It is the paving of new roads,
not lining the old
over top of deep ruts and potholes.

It is a question that brings deep truth,
a rainbow strand floating
on newly moved water.

I lay out the stones
on little drawn grids,
say my prayers,
my penance,
redraw the pencil lines
and leave the rest
for tomorrow.