You step ashore cautiously
Leaving the mother-boat out there
Tossed by your timid leap.

You tread my firm beach with fear
Then go like Christ on the water
      through my quicksand.

There’s a shine within your brow
      like a miner’s lamp
Showing my terrain in random flashes.

Many weeks later
      you will cross me lampless
Reading the map you have made.
And I will find on one of my hills
      your flag claiming
Part of me for yourself.

Now a retired piano teacher, I wrote this poem during a time when I had a lot of beginners at the piano in the six- to eight-year-old category. It illustrates the first of the Seven Principles. (1)