Step by Step

the flowers in his face,

a half-summered man,

the sun glowed from his skin,

and a whispered wind blew his troubles away.

.

what then was he left with?

.

well, he was left with the flowers in the field.

he was left with his breath.

he was left knowing his power,

standing on the mountain of sovereignty.

.

and, well, “how amazing!” you might declare,

not knowing that the true test of mastery

was the letting go that happened

while climbing the mountain.

.

for in climbing,

did he find much sorrow,

no shelter from the storm,

yet, also, courage to continue walking.

.

he left his companions to walk,

to stride with his own two feet —

sometimes, tired, he crawled.

.

although he never gave up,

he certainly did take the time to rest

and bathe his form,

to give thanks for the stars that lit his path.

.

he watched the same horizon

every time he circled the mountain.

it grew ever more beautiful.

.

the mountain was conquered,

there were times of doubt and great fear,

of hope so dim and faith so weak —

and then, especially then, was he kind towards himself.

especially then, did he say “i love you” and “thank you for this gift”

.

but what he never knew…

was there was another mountain to climb.

and this peak was not the stopping point he thought it was.

.

a mere taste of the vastness

of power

from integrity

in his true alignment.