Tiny hands and tiny feet,
Start to move, start to creep,
Wobbly arms and wobbly legs,
Reaching for a steadying edge.
And now more upright,
Now more sure,
The steps are balanced and secure.
Our walk already taking shape,
No turning back and no escape.
We move, we dance, we whirl and turn,
We keep on moving as we learn.
We do not know what day it comes,
When balance falters, sensation numbs.
Our dance less graceful and secure,
We falter where we once were sure.
And in the waning days of life,
We shuffle through the dimming light.
Remembering all that we have learned,
The paths we traveled, bridges burned,
Our feet now wrinkled, old and tired,
More clumsy than we may desire,
Have carried us, have moved us on,
Until the day our steps are done.