Stone by stone the path is layed,
with crooked, quirky lines.
Half undone with mis-matched squares
It's how my life's defined.
The ground's too hard to take the spade;
it's rocky down below.
But inch by inch if it makes its way
a richness is bestowed.
Diligence now, to make it.
And don't forget to breath.
It's only just a walkway,
But it's more than you'd conceive.