He Climbed The Stairs Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

He climbed the stairs, then he turned to look down below;
and a dagger entered the moment as he cried.
I gathered the tears that his footsteps left in snow.

I wanted to flee from my own aching shadow,
and I wanted to weep at our hopeless divide.
He climbed the stairs, then he turned to look down below.

He was luminous in the hands of twilight glow,
the desolate darkness embraced him on each side.
I gathered the tears that his footsteps left in snow.

Little by little, he turned into a sparrow,
being born of the water of the weeping tide.
He climbed the stairs, then he turned to look down below.

His countenance is the only light that I know.
His eyes are a permeation and azure dyed.
I gathered the tears that his footsteps left in the snow.

And though he could not speak it nor say it was so,
he loved with a fervor that cannot be denied.
He climbed the stairs, then he turned to look down below.
I gathered the tears that his footsteps left in snow.