Steady Steps
Consistency, a steady pace, A gradual climb, a winning race. Though slow at times, it's sure and true, A path to change, both old and new. Impulsive actions, fleeting fire, May burn bright, but quickly tire. A steady hand, a patient heart, Can shape the world, tear it apart. Each morning I rise, whispering a word, A prayer like dew on the wings of a bird. No thunder, no rush, just quiet and clear, A conversation with God that draws me near. Some days feel dry, the answers delayed, Yet still, I kneel—unshaken, undismayed. For faith is not found in moments grand, But in each step where I take His hand. Like streams that carve through stone with time, Or seeds that bloom in seasons prime, My prayers grow roots, unseen but sure, Making my soul steadfast and pure. It’s not the speed but the steady pace, That brings me closer to His grace. Consistency may feel slow and small, But it’s the key to standing tall. So I’ll keep praying, day by day, Trusting His will, come what may
