It starts with a simple step…
A fumble…a push…
And with the stumble it’s the hand that catches the fall…
With knees on ground as if in a bow…
And then…? We stand…
Blood running down the leg….to remind us…
The pain…our reward…
For what a reward it is…
No mountain of gold…no kingdom or crown stands in equal…
Stand now…Stand as if in marble for all to see…
Name it grace…humility… for they are placeholders…
Your failures…sit at your feet as crumbled stone from a sculpture’s hand.
And the eyes that gaze now…the possibilities that lay ahead.