August 30, 2010

I am a ripple now, breathing a little fast but soft, soft.
Imagine stretched staircases rising from the mist,
Broad and sturdy, separate from dew-laden spirit.
I stood, I stand; climb, one hand on the rail
The other, fingers lingering over a whisper.
Could I not be the water, steam turned liquid
Lapping up the steps inch by inch?
I remain. Whole and alive, to rise,
A tide in a path I've never known.


Daughter of the King said...

For some reason this reminds of Jacob's ladder.

Avery said...

<3 this. <3 you.