Three Steps

I almost trod on it but then my shoe kinda flinched, one leg hovered in the air not wanting to feel or hear that sound. There’s a large dead cricket belly-up three steps down on the stoop. Yellow-green exoskeleton still vibrant spidery legs stiff and splayed in the morning sun. I know body cavities crunch when turning to dust I have seen the dead still dying away. I have seen their exhumed bodies. I’m not stepping on my truth today. One fine day all our flesh will be healed; spiritually formed, vibrant, fully returned to the many colors of love. Three steps down from the highest stoop something real good will be true, for us I reckon.