The Price of the Seventh Step
The walls had stood
long before we arrived
unbothered by time
untouched by effort
unmoved by intent
they knew nothing
of surrender
only standing
And somewhere else—
a man carried a sentence
in his skin
Naaman
clothed in authority
but marked
by what would not leave
he was told—
wash
not once
but seven
in waters
beneath his dignity
We were told—
walk
not once
but again
and again
around a city
that did not care
that we had arrived
Jericho
shut tight
confident
certain
Dip one—
nothing
Step one—
nothing
Dip two—
still there
Step two—
still standing
By the third
the question forms
By the fourth
it speaks
By the fifth
it grows bold
this is foolish
this is empty
this is not how
things change
Six dips
bear witness
six days
testify
nothing yields
this way
but obedience
does not measure
effectiveness
it measures
completion
the seventh
is not special
because it is different
it is special
because it is finished
he went under
as a leper
and broke the surface
whole
we walked
as witnesses
to something that would not fall
and shouted
as those
who had already been heard
and what had never yielded
did
not to strength
not to reason
not to force
but to fullness
some things
will resist you
for six
they will argue
with your effort
mock your repetition
stand taller
in your persistence
but they are not waiting
for a better method
they are waiting
for the moment
you refuse
to stop
one step
too soon
© Ron Simpson Jr.
