Steps

She steps past each day

Reaching for harmony’s rungs

None shall keep her in sweet stay

 

 Haunted way too young;

Running in faltering stride,

And chased by many a dissonant tongue -

 

A young mother bride

Runs across the sand

Seeking a mate at her side

 

Treading for a place to stand

Measuring each riser’s time

Whilst reaching out her hand

 

Knowing neither the rhyme

 

Nor reason that transcends

Both the carnal and the sublime

 

Does the stairway descend

Unto waiting of the day

Or lift up to heaven’s ascend-

 

She sings, “Come with me this way -

Matters not thy trebled steps –

Only a voice to sing away the day”