When water seeps through
My shoes,
And sky changes from grays
To blues,
Wet walking becomes me.
Drawn to my heels, toes, soles--
Sticky notes with lists that leap
From small square to large bear
Growl a little softer;
They know.
Slinking back to their caves,
Lists of doing
Feel deceived
By the relief that resides
In wet walking.
Stopping,
Remaining drops
Pool on pines and leaves,
Leave hope behind
Where once debris
Of mind
Fumed with rage.
In wet walking,
There is no cage.
The drops that hang on edges of
Pine needles
After heavy rain
Don't realize how precarious their
Lives are.
They shine.
They shimmer.
They glimmer.
Their spark barks
Loudly because the sun
Shines brightly.
Nightly,
They fall
And crawl along the soil, seep into it,
Deeper than even they thought they could go.
One day,
They join roots to rise
Once more.
Its purpose, we cannot find
When we sit around its table
And dine.
What little we find
Tastes as though
Sand has been ground in--
We chew slowly,
Clsoing our eyes as if
Not seeing makes
Not feeling, Not knowing.
Growing never was easy,
No matter how many proverbs tell us
It's worth it.
Trying to be grateful,
We hold hands
And instead wish everything
Were different.
Feast, Beast--
You will not stay forever.
You may leave a sour aftertaste,
But in your place
We find new ways
To chase grace,
Eyes opened once more.