Steps

When I’m downstairs, I can hear the steps above me, John’s heavy rhythm, Wendy’s skipping and light beat, the flurry of the cats racing each other down the stairs. They all move toward me in their own percussive way, a symphony of sound bringing a smile to my face.

I hear it all and wonder what sound my feet make and when.

What impact do i make here in my own home? What path do i create?

Do I cover the stairs in my essence, my life, my way?

Can i be heard over the purr of the air conditioner, puttering along at 68?

Do I stand out as a soul sound in my echoey house the way others do for me?