THE END OF THE JOURNEY
There is an unseen power in a first step
Be it the start of a million-mile quest
Or a dash from your door to the world ahead
Each victory begins in that first test.
Two hundred days ago, I stared at a blank page
Unsure how to begin, afraid to start
Writing a poem a day felt like being in a cage
Doubt casting shadows over my lovely art.
Yet I raised my pen, though themes would fade
And storms of procrastination loomed
Still, I pushed on, to arrive at this day
Writing now at the edge of the penultimate.
As I look back at the path I've walked
So many have found light in my words.
That first step, two hundred days ago
Broke the ground for my poetic growth.
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