The Stepping Stones

One day, I ran down a mountain slope,

Every where I looked there were hills and rugged tracks,

built by years of depression,

The rivers became valleys,

And it wound its way where the waters overflowed.

.

“How long did it take for the valley to be a part of this magnificence, do you know?” He asked me,

“It would have taken a thousand or maybe a million years,” I said. Well, I didn’t know how long exactly.

Valleys were once unfounded until the soil made way for the rivers to overflow,

and a new formation became a creation.

.

“Wow,” he said.

I ran down the slope, my feet barely within the confines of its rugged tracks,

Perhaps I couldn’t feel the rocks on the ground,

As I sprinted to the valley below,

In my eagerness, they were my stepping stones.

.

I wondered if I aged as I ran,

It was just like living my years and running towards a dream I wished for so,

Though the tracks were long, winding and uneven,

My vision stayed true to reach the nirvana below.

.

It was a long way down, nonetheless, I knew I would make it somehow,

It was up to me to decide which track to follow.

-shobana-

2 Comments on “The Stepping Stones

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