A short poem reflecting on how we must lose something often if we want to gain. If we hold onto everything, we can grasp what is newly being placed into our hands or lives. Step by step, door by door, creak by creak, hear the floor. Window pain, Stops the beak Lying still, Not a peep. Pull my leg, Spoke a Word Raised my hair and felt, not heard. Make the sign, Of the cross Bless my soul, Gain from loss. I must die, To receive, No more blind, You believe.