I Look For Stairs And See None Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

No stairs visible on this level, why?
Should I go back to lower levels
Or look around the corner where I saw
A child that would not talk to me for I was a stranger?
Should I jump and yell my name on to new levels
Or get bamboo poles and jump on them on the way up?

I need to get to the top to the last level,
For it is at the very top of the gum tree,
For on its crown is a promise made long ago,
That some hidden treasure awaits me if I do climb,
So royal, so intense it causes the tree to shake,
And fall letting all the water it traps,
Fill the ground making everything green.

This will make the world shake under my feet.
With what is called dancing life in to existence,
With my pen inscribing my dreams way up there,
On the face of the sky, for I will have climbed,
Stayed, and reached the up of this life.

Yesterday I climbed false escalators with my hands,
Holding the support at the side with hallelujahs,
I rolled back and grace put my grip back on the support,
Or I would have fallen backwards on the moving metal,
And broken my spine, the escalator that leads all of me,
And holds together my being, reasoning and doing.

These levels look very high right now that I am here,
They come on stronger than the subtlest of temptations,
Rendering me helpless for my arms are weary of holding on,
Yet since we are assured of steps in this life,
I must hold on and know the stairs were built to be there,
Or else this intrigue would not have had so many levels.

Those who aim low dream less and sleep more,
The first level wrings all the juice out of them,
And they dry up into husks that ants and termites eat,
For they reside in levels low never to go to the next.
These insects that devour the spirit of the weary,
Yet they emulate the hard work of the diligent.

The light through the window deceived me,
It shone in levels up and led me on,
And made me think the climb would be easy,
As each step would lead me down corners,
Where I would find a long line of climbers like me,
Only to find the darkness looking at just my face,
For I am one hell of a climber, see on me these
Wings of angels that flap all the time,
For if they did not you would not be on the same page
Glaring at this picture together with me.