The Steps to Nowhere

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An inspiring poem about some old concrete steps in a field that were sitting there alone

The Steps to Nowhere

 

I pass by those steps every day.

Sometimes more than once.

Up to step three and then nothing.

 

Why are they there?

Maybe a reminder to someone?

A sign of what used to be, or could be?

 

Those concrete steps sit there alone.

Just a few weeds on their sides.

Up to step three and then nothing.

 

A child's playhouse, a tool shed?

A small roadside store long ago?

Maybe a small home for a young couple?

 

Worn and rough with small rocks you see.

Refined and smooth edges gone away.

Up to step three and then nothing.

 

Possibly what is left of something that burned?

A glimpse of the what remains to remind them of the past.

Or maybe, could they be steps to the future?

 

A beautiful field with flowers and trees.

A picture of beauty is behind those steps.

Up to step three and then something.

 

Those steps almost call out for someone to use them.

For someone to see them for more than they appear.

Driving at a slower pace to get a glance.

 

They draw you to them and make you curious.

Maybe I'll stop and take a look.

Up to step three and then something.

 

A very visible path led the way.

Up to step one.  Don't worry what others think.

Stepping on the first one and everything grew brighter.

 

Then, two and three were like I didn't take them myself.

What was not visible before now sprawled out before me.

Up to step three and then everything.

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