Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share on Google+ Share on Reddit Share on Pinterest Share on Linkedin Share on Tumblr After I shared my Fourth Step inventory with my sponsor, taking the Fifth Step, I moved on and wrote this poem during the hour I spent with God alone as I took Steps Six and Seven. Broad highway Narrow path, narrow steps. Tight rope strung between mountain peaks formed by stories, wrapped in drama, about a life lived overdone. Suspended, I balanced. Righteous, I clung to air no longer filled with oxygen. Between two peaks I paused, forgetting which way to go next. Liminal space gave way to Grace when she said, “Leap, but not yet.” And I said, “OK.” She said, “Would you let me catch you?” I said, “Why?” “Because you are beloved,” she said. And I laughed. Me? Beloved? Resentments as deep as the gorge below. Fears so many they strangled my soul. She whispered, “There’s room enough within these clouds, upon this wind, to let them go, one breath, one truth, at a time.” Between two peaks, on the narrow path, the loosening rope began to unravel thread by thread. Weary, my heart heard Grace again. “I’ve still got you. Always have. Always will.” Powerless and lost, I surrendered to the wind the story of the mountains I built, the truth of the narrow path I braved until I couldn’t walk it anymore. “Leap now!” Grace said. “Wide arms wait to catch you, to carry you, until your feet stand strong and your back feels the weight of your world lifted off. Hand in hand I’ll walk with you along the broad highway where there’s air to breathe. With me, you’ll never walk alone again.” Lighter, I leapt— landing grounded by Grace, I felt alive for the first time in a long time, eager to live out my days, one breath, one step, one day at a time. — Connie
