Small Steps

On the 19th of January, I am tangled in icy clutches.

Each step of mine is heavy and unsure,

Each ragged breath sending out fog like a warning signal,

a momentary burst of warmth that is snuffed out in seconds,

leaving me once again to the mercy of the frigid day.

The uneven crunch of ice is my fluttering heartbeat

The snow drifts over my footprints, smothering them almost as fast as they appear,

It confirms what I already know. The thought that has sewn itself into my mind with a cruelly sharpened needle:

I will never produce anything of permanence.

I’ve grown familiar with the unforgiving chill that cuts like razors on my cheek

Numb with despair I trudge forward,

The bitter wind howling on behind me.

On the 19th of April, even the damp Spring air can’t rid me of the cold

The same path is now a stranger to me, gnarled roots snatch at my feet;

I feel a single tear slip down the hollow of my cheek

It splatters onto the mud below my red rubber boots- a withered raindrop that will never belong

I search for new blooming life and flower petals and baby birds and lady bugs

but I am only greeted by my own shadow

Somehow, the mud has gotten thicker and I can feel myself sinking

My legs like lead, too slow to free myself

Somehow, I keep walking, mud flicking from the soles of red rubber.

On the 19th of July, I let myself glance towards the sun, if only for a moment.

The world is buzzing to life around me and this time I try not to shut it out.

In the distance I can see the warped edges of the heatwave,

A smudge on the shimmering horizon that reminds me that beauty is not perfection.

Beauty can be the birds that sing in shrill tones and the uneven patches of bright green grass

It can be the sun, unapologetically radiant.

It summons a thin layer of sweat on my forehead and demands that I notice its presence

For once I can almost smell the flowers that paint the path with pinks and yellows

My heart beat is carried on the young butterfly’s wings

Jittery but youthful as it longs to take flight

With a new sense of hope, I walk on, letting the warm Summer air carry my steps.

On the 19th of September, I smile.

I kick up leaves like they belong to me, leaving a trail of blazing embers in my wake

Everything is dipped in gold and for once, I allow myself to admire it

To be encased in it

To feel the warmth that it radiates.

The air is cold and crisp once more

but this time, I am not shivering.

I’ve grown familiar with the gnarled roots and I navigate them swiftly now, never stumbling

I’m a dancer now, leather boots gliding across this wild ballroom that I have learned to love

And suddenly I stop.

I look down, a wistful breath catching in my throat

For it sits there, before my widened eyes, in all its depth and glory

A footprint. My footprint.

It is once more the 19th of January but now I’m standing in a world that doesn’t even recognize me

If I close my eyes I can almost feel it searching for the doubt and pain that once inhabited my bones

But they live there no longer

Now, my steps are slow and deliberate, and I let myself glance around in awe

I let my eyes greet each twinkling snowflake that kisses my skin

Tiny pinpricks that I wear like badges that I have earned

I stand in a glittering kingdom

One that I never knew existed

The icy wind picks up once more but this time it sounds like music

I will dance and sway and run with that wind , my laugh gliding over the snowy hills behind me

And I will keep walking this trail, long after the snow, melts until it feels like home.

I will change and grow with the seasons that surround me and when I look back,

My footprints will be everywhere.