One step, one step, then two and three; from there
an anticipation of future hope,
calling back to memory ‘We got here.’
Songs of the future hang in the æther,
a child’s chant, sung while skipping with rope;
‘One step, one step, then two and three, from there.’
Journeys which are planned slowly are briefer,
the routes more youthful in vigor and scope,
calling back to memory, ‘We got here.’
Later, in a world that is filled with cares,
it’s harder to remain focused. We grope
one step, one step, then two and three, from there.
When sharing together in later years,
recollections draw on our faded hopes,
calling back to memory, ‘We got here.’
Progression from child to youth is shorter
than the years between adult and senior.
One step, one step, then two and three; from there
calling back to memory, ‘We got here.’
Original poem and picture by stuartcturnbull