Step Work Poem by Scott J. Shepard

But first in the dark,
it was rigid to think better
with the sense of then stepping out.

A small amount becomes habit;
even to a word of thanks.

A room full of myself,
I would hear through only silence.

To discard daily practice
of Gods world was to accept
the entire utterance of after all.

Not knowing after all that the sense
of intruding was bewildering to
dark thoughts.

So be it nothing surrounded my fortune.

To request ourselves permanent
then would be dismantling to the idea
of stepping out of our own self will.