To Those Who Take The First Step

A lesson in anguish in line of this
our cautionary tale and present process.
The eyes stare back like wet stones
at empty fields covered over with fog.

What Hell has been gone through to
Now see some patch of light beyond
Clouds and a few rolling slopes left,
To see now and to feel hesitation.

Ominous, is that fog, full of life
Without so much as a pulse
As floats like a lesser cloud over
These fields meant for running feet.

Thunder applauds from just
over the shoulder, as Hell awaits.
Turn around and see us, they cheer.
The voices take all tones in memory.

The carcass of a tree stems upward
Reaching like inverted roots in search
Of soils and waters to be reborn
There in a land of mistrust and confusion.

The bliss that radiates from that patch
Beamed down from Heaven,
Awaiting a tired soul in this cautionary tale
To equip deaf ears to Hell over the shoulder.

The eyes stare on, lacking in faith
They doubt themselves as messengers,
For known are the illusions wrought
by the past, unto this present possibility.

Doubt, that fickle devil in the ear,
Is Mercury to the eyes and all they see.
Soothing would be a verse or two muttered,
Under the breath of the breathtaken victim.

The first step, with grace as sweet as sound,
That which is surprising, gives faith.
The thunder behind will fade into silence,
Until that patch of light ignites those fields.