Glistening Stepping Stone

I would walk among those who walk without.

They leap gracefully and make the next calculated step in the large pond.

The pebbles become rocks with each passing step.

Still, no doubt,

they don't motion for me to come to follow. 

I stand cautiously on the half-submerged isle, waiting for my own path to present themselves to me-

a delicate pearl bridge.

Time passed as I wasn't asleep for it.

Those who walk without throw more smooth stones in the pond.

Soft voices, loud Music, Lit images I imagine.

They don't sound the same as they did before.

It feels like my name now.

I look up in this open space, then I look down at the pond.

A giant mass of clay; I had only acknowledged it now.

It was lying beneath the clear liquid that I now call sea.

There's glitter in the mud, rubble like mini gems embedded within.

I step over, thinking of sinking:

the platform holds me.

My feet welcomes a cool surface.

I focus my sight.

I walk along the semi-stable path.

At the end a hardened rock, 

beige and silver and gritty.

I march with no hesitation.