We’re always taking giant steps;
indeed, right now we’re underway.
They guide us through those heights and depths
and distances we on our maps
display.
At times they lead us far astray
on ever stranger flights and trips.
They help us stumble and sashay
from Eden out to old Cathay
on boundless ships.
Returning, we begin new laps
and train to strike another way.
This time we’ll earn applause and claps
by springing cold oppression’s traps
to dawn a brighter day.
When Lilliputians as he lay
bound Gulliver with cords and straps,
he didn’t sink into dismay,
nor did he think to curse or pray.
Instead he mused, amid the slaps
from countless sceptered six-inch chaps,
“What steps have led me here, I pray?”
Regret set in at times, perhaps.
But still, he never let them lapse –
those steps that threw the shadows of his clay.