Stepping Stones

I wake each morning
to begin again,
to dance across
these stones,
set just so,
that seem to lead
to the other bank
where willow fronds
trail fingers in the brook
and shadowy forms glide
beneath peat clear waters.

I wake to begin again
each step new
and yet familiar
at this fording
lit by the morning sun
sparkling promises
and carolled by
warblers and weavers
busy celebrating
and creating.

I wake, sometimes at night,
and the silvery moon
shines a beckoning ribbon
of enticement
that kisses the wet stones
in invitation
so that the far bank
appears within a stride
or two.

I wake, as from a dream,
to start again,
and take each step
deliberately,
that crosses the waters
of oblivion,
the deep unconscious,
between me and
Your outstretched hand.

©️🥀🐇
26 June 2021

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