Steps and Lessons
There lies
Steps that go down
And down
And down
To the Quiet Pool that Is my Soul
What are the steps?
But lessons learned day by day
Week by week
Year by year
So when does one find this deep and quiet pool?
Hmm
Better yet be the question of what lessons will lead one to the Soul of Me.
His eyes
Lies
Don't suffice
My eyes
Fight
Hide
Our love
Black
Slack
His love
Malice
Poisoned chalice
My love
Naked
Pequod
A gracile deer steps softly
through the deep white winter
snow,
waiting for the warm sun to
return.
The garden glows with that soft,
van Gogh kind of morning~
light shimmering on the edges of things,
as if the world is holding its breath
for a small miracle.
A child lifts one foot,
then the other,
arms reaching forward
like a tiny pilgrim
crossing the distance
between fear and trust.
The father kneels,
hands open, steady,
a harbor waiting
for the smallest ship
ever to brave the sea of grass.
Behind them,
the mother watches~
her posture half-prayer,
half-release~
knowing this is how
letting go begins.
And the child,
caught in that golden hush,
takes the step that changes everything~
a step toward the future,
toward the father’s warmth,
toward the life that will unfold
one footfall at a time.
And in this quiet turning of the world,
paint becomes life~
a small child stepping into tomorrow,
a father opening his arms to meet it,
their lives unfolding in soft, bright increments~
each step a promise that love
moves us farther than fear ever could.
The steps are centimeters,
In this position of the edge of the vessel,
The needle’s point—an obstacle—
The reward, is a platform,
The corner where you reveal the picture.
It gives feelings and emotions,
A journey of steps,
Measured and moved,
In the quiet rhythm of the soul.
Jack O'Lantern, Pumpkin Pie
The sun sinks in the western sky
Lovers whisper low
Ebenezer, time goes by
Santa Claus, reindeers fly
Someone starts to grow
Flowers bloom, bees make honey
Chocolate egg, Easter bunny
New room to adorn
The sun rises in the sky
New birds whistle, sing and fly
Summer baby born
Step one:Go to the bus stop and be quiet (Meet the person who you would want to fight for)
Step two:Go to school always sitting next to your partner (Really you wanted to sit next to the person you just met at the stop)
Step three:Always talk to them for a few weeks (Smile at them when they are at school)
Step four:you don’t see them so you go to school with a friend (They end up telling you he’s dead)
Step five: Till this day you can’t say goodbye (You loved him and you never could say those three words that day you were told because you had a plan to tell him and you were feeling bold)
FLIGHT OF STEPS-:-
traditional
ziggurat
visualised
cultural
references
of MIGRATION OF MYTHS
widely
read
translated
entablature
structures
PERSONALLY SELECTED
common
criteria
preserved
separate
independent
Steps
shaking
stand surely
striving to stride
steadfastly sober
stretching skills, not sudden
shaped along serene success*
supplicating, shining--- soaring
smiting slothfulness and selfishness…
sharing blessings from God’s supply store
secured through faith of stewardship
settled against dearth sorrows
suffice, conquering stress
sustained for showing
s a t i s f i e d s o u l
serves well sans
steadfast
stops.
*Joshua 1:8-9 This book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth; but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein: for then thou shalt make thy way prosperous, and then thou shalt have good success. Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
Nonet form with alliteration
March 11, 2026
1st place, "Open the Door and Enter the World of Possibilities" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Sara Kendrick; judged on 5/17/2026
duck and stay low
don’t let the enemy get a bead on you
watch out for freshly dug earth
watch your buddy’s six
eyes and ears open
one misstep and you’re a goner
don’t bunch up
Sgt Johnson barks orders
as his foot steps on an IED
Million steps
Out the sunrise
Appears my lady
Style for grace
Dressed in lace
We come face
To face
What a surprise
I walk a million steps
Which turns into a run
Give her some time
Oh she so.... Fine
Love her..
Need her. Have
Some fun
Chorus
Supporting her dreams And never fade away
Until my dying day
To continue
Dear one,
I greet you with a heart overflowing,
Love spilling like dawn across the sky,
Honoring the sacredness of this shared path—
A quiet river where our souls entwine.
You are not alone.
In the deepest essence, we are one,
Bound by threads unseen,
Held in the gentle hand of the divine.
Our journey is holy.
Each step whispers grace,
Each breath a hymn of awakening—
Not a distant dream, but a truth already here.
Walk with me.
For love is not a promise,
It is the ground beneath our feet,
The sky above our hope,
The eternal song we’ve always sung.
There are rules to minds
that we may not be aware we set
Yet we also choose for processes to exist
that we forget, interrupting these values of gratitude
through stages in which we reflect
through forms of reasoning;
for the ears and tongues of my laymen:
emotions guide you to what you want;
depression, anxiety, reoccurring traumas
bear sensibility when any of those feelings
lead you to help.
Nothing will make sense
without taking whichever steps are needed
to leave this hell.
It makes sense, making choices
based off of feelings that have always taken you
to where you believe you should be taken.
This does not create an inherent price
for your judgment to come back
with fairness as a cost.
It's only a metaphorical transaction.
As much as the feeling of horror
may overcome a person,
the same strength of that feeling
can be mimicked by any of our emotions.
Why could it not?
If something can traumatize,
something can heal;
It doesn’t always rain,
I've seen beautiful weather at funerals.
Running off
to somewhere else
the past tracks
close behind
Its shadow looming
steps in place
while preying
to remind
That time pursues
the fleetest man
with doggedness
and ire
To kindle each
mistaken step
into a raging
— fire
(The New Room: December, 2025)
Small Steps
The daily grind that binds
The horde of low reward
Must be more to life than this
Wake up, stir and shake up
New skills and chances take up
Small steps to BE, not just exist
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