Promptly Poetry Entries (6/20 - 6/21)

The Ladder

“I’ll build a staircase to heaven”
the grizzled, old carpenter said.
But due to the high price of lumber,
he constructed a ladder instead.

It was rough-hewn, but sturdy,
its beams made from solid oak.
Each rung was hand-chiselled,
skill and vision in every stroke.

Every year the ladder grew higher,
the old man determined to finish.
His neighbors muttered and gossiped,
What could be the purpose of this business?

Over the years he worked tirelessly.
though his hair greyed and his fingers gnarled,
though birds nested on the rungs,
and green ivy round the beams was snarled.

Word spread of this foolish endeavour,
and soon there gathered bewildered crowds.
The ladder had surpassed the trees,
disappearing into the clouds.

One day, the old man took to his bed,
pain accompanied each labored breath.
His body worn out, his eyes were dulled,
as he approached the moment of death.

And at that moment such light filled his room.
An angel appeared and bid him arise.
With all the strength and agility of youth,
he climbed his ladder to paradise.

Now the legend is told round and about,
that the ladder remains, though never scaled.
Its exact location a mystery to this day,
many have searched for it, all have failed.

Though no witness survives still
who watched his final ascension,
there is no one alive who doubts
that he reached a heavenly dimension.


Week 51

There's a ladder, you can't see where it goes because of the clouds.
Where might this ladder to the sky lead? Write about it!