literature

Loving Stairs

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summersilence's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

Paths can be tread upon
With open eyes and closed minds
As if traveling through a forest of memories
Each mound, shard of bark, and branch
Holding back unforgotten yet unrecalled feelings
The air is not quiet thick
But does not exactly flow
Like the never ending folds of silky fabric
Sewn together
Tightly and neatly so the seams rightly fit
No, the air is not so fair and flowing
Nor does it know of the suffocating grip
Neither oppressing nor flowing
…Bearable
Is what it is
Each breath that I steal from this pool of air
Is just bearable for existence
Happiness and sorrow can not be obtained
From the air that resides in this forest
It is, to put it simply
Bearable

Tress gather round
Firming a tight knit wall
So as to be able to dance around me
Clumsily, I navigate
Through the mounds, shards of bark, and branches
Gliding my fingers lightly over such natural beauty
Flashes
Sparks
Motions
Come about
As I rest my hand on branches and rocks
As I hold onto crisp eternal leaves
This forest is older than Fathom’s presence
Such unwise minds could not hope to understand
What happens when one walks
Through such lavish lands

Night and Day
Have no place
None here
For they do not stay
Touching
I indeed migrate past the trees
Into an open platform of moss and growth
Behold!
All can now see
Where my journey ends
And life begins and ends:
At the loving stairs
Sloping and winding
They gradually ascend
To the infinite height
Of these trees I’ve traveled amongst
What a site
Youth hopes to one day
To know the feeling
Of content
Of traveling a path
The unbreakable, uplifting feeling
When one reaches the cliff
And begins to look over the edge
Content
Such that only the loving stairs provide and keep

Looking out on to the crumbling, moss sewn marble stairs
I know the time is right
Entering past the gates of hesitance
I tread lightly on bare feet
Past the threshold towards my journey’s end
Before the stairs
I look
I see
And on bended knee
I rest on the aged stone steps
One more minute
One more breath of what was
Before I begin to embark on the end
By climbing the stony steps
And depositing beloved memories
Into Mother Nature’s soil-y hands
Letting her complete the journey I started
Keeping such memories in a safe place
Where they are unforgotten yet unrecalled

With every intention of walking back
Back towards Life
I stand before the threshold of hesitance
Looking out onto a sacred sight
Memories that will never die
Harvested and pruned
They grow
They exist
It will be a while
A long while
Before I shall climb those aged stone steps
Of the loving stairs
The stairs that is the birth place
Of my cherished memories
I wont climb those lovely stairs
Not until an unknown time is to come
Not until I feel the need to revisit this forest
Forest of dear memories
And the stairs
The loving stairs that plant them here
for jarren
© 2006 - 2024 summersilence
Comments12
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eener22091's avatar
This forest is older than Fathom’s presence
Such unwise minds could not hope to understand
What happens when one walks
Through such lavish lands
*loved that part^

That was a beautiful beyond words poem so I think I'm going to stop typing in order to preserve its amazingness and emotional impact.