Kimo Sounds - Rise Steady

I climb from where the floor gave out,
one rung at a time. Stitching torn edges with fingers that learned to mend.
Old wounds start callousing the way to lay new scaffolding.
I, I plant small anchors under every unsure footfall.
Breathing in, I turn each bruise into a step of warmth.
They line the parade with demands, hands waving quick designs.
I folded those blueprints, picked my tools from quieter piles.
I trip on loose planks, nights when the map blurred to rain.
Each tumble taught the brace how to splice a tired theme.
My palms learn to count the screws, the angles, and the weight.
Oh.
Home, home, home. I gather every rung, I shape a place like home.
Anchored, anchored, anchored.
I trade the instant cheers for patient work each day.
Gather your hands, tend the frame, breathe and remain.
Home, home. Home,
home. Home, home. Home, home.
They call for quicker crowns, I answer with the way my hands lay.
Temper is patient proof that claims a home.
Flash winds flicker then cool to nothing.
I set the bones that hold when weather comes.
I pull the ropes tight, knot each line toward home.
Not for empty cheers, but for method and the way.
This patchwork room breathes on beams arranged for home.
I answer every bruise with steady hands each day.
I keep the loading line, I keep my balance true.
I learn the shape of now and make it stay.
Home, home, home. I gather every rung, I shape a place like home.
Anchored, anchored, anchored.