O, quiet steps to take—or maybe
kicking rocks to reach the top—to change
it all, once I am over.
Moving, taking steps toward what is next,
for now unseen. The future matters; so does
now: plan, prepare; celebrate, go
But the steps that climb, I climb,
and what they mean. To make the steps
real, ideas must turn with
questions made into commitment: Who
am I? And you? What do we want?
What might we have now, and
what must wait? Here, the steps are life as is,
relenting to what’s raw and incomplete—life
beyond the metaphor, though the metaphor of
steps inspires. And so, dear steps, I talk with you
and thank you. Then turn to the actual one
close by to ask: Will you plan with me? Will
you help me draw the lines of steps to make
a path and then to fill them in?
Will you help me, metaphor in life?
I’ll step up or down