Day Two Hundred and Forty Five: Stepping Stones

Someone once said to me that the first thing you write is just as important as the last thing, and that the bad things are just as important as the good things. It’s all part of the journey.

Not your Stepping Stone

In warm blood,
deep at the bottom of the heart,
words lie on a bleeding reef
leading you on.

Page after page,
line after line,
each a stepping stone
across the vast expanse of mind.

Enticing you
toward a jetty of new design,
under which bare treasure
is waiting to be discovered.

Akin to flowers
blooming in the spring
some verses are poised and
waiting to be blossom

Whereas others
are uncovered a step at a time
like they were always waiting to be found,
each a stepping stone of its own.

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