The Climb

Brick by brick,

I build the ground floor,

the base from which

the sky might be reached.

~

Ours is not the rocket booster

—or even the provenance of planes.

Long before man ever darted into the ether,

simple structures gave him a taste of the beyond.

~

And so I proceed to build my tower,

my humble beacon to ward off the night.

To bring a touch of light

to the lone figure out in the cold wastes.

~

Yes, other towers may be mightier.

Their walls higher, their beacons brighter.

But this tower is mine and mine alone,

a companion in the dark.

~

Yes, I may have spent $50 in advertising

for $5 in royalties.

Yes, I may have scattered free copies to the wind

for the whisper of a review.

~

But hope is what powers this beacon.

And what holds that light to the heavens

is a sweat-laden brow, a steady hand, an eye for detail,

and a dash of faith.