Seventeen Steps

I finally finished this poem:

"Seventeen Steps"
by Benjamin Crowder

Seventeen steps down the way, she said,
Not more or less, dear, or you'll end up dead,
Then turn to the left and count all your toes,
Your fingers and eyeballs and even your nose.
Follow the footsteps that lead to the woods
Where darkness and danger and shadows like hoods
Cling to the trees like a leech on its prey;
You'd better walk fast or you won't get away.
Take the first pathway that leads to the right,
Downward and inward, away from the light.
Terror may seize you but do not turn back,
For six hundred goblins are hot on your tracks.
Look for the voices which shimmer and sing,
And then you must ask them to show you the wings;
Take them and fly through the canyon below
Till you get to the edge where the wild things grow.
Deep in the tangle of brambles and thorns
You'll find a gold jacket, all tattered and torn;
Don't touch it, my boy, now, whatever you do--
Though tempting it seems now, it won't get you through.
Three steps past the jacket you'll find a tight hole;
Stomp loud with your feet till you bring out the mole,
Then sing him a song of lost love long ago,
Till the leaves in the trees begin their soft blow.
Quickly, now, while he sleeps, into the hole,
You're closer than ever to reaching your goal;
Take the top tunnel, then right left left right,
And soon now the sunlight will grow in your sight,
Stronger and brighter, just follow your eyes,
You'll come to the exit, but don't mind the size,
It's meant for a mole, not a creature so big,
So roll up your sleeves, boy, and dig, dig, dig, dig;
The wind will be cartwheeling out of the west,
So run like a shadow and don't stop to rest.
The end is not more than fifteen feet away,
Just dodge past the infinite edge of the day,
And yes, there it is! On the cusp of the tree,
It's a book filled with stories,
For you and for me.