Footprints in the Sand

As I look back, over my footprints in the sand, I see the changes in my pace, the way the tide eddies differently, In every single step. In some places my impressions are still deep, easy to see. Others, have already been washed away. The sea has tried it’s best, to remove all evidence I was ever there. In some places it succeeds.  Some others still bare a mark, Vague yet still there.  A memory of my presence.  And in those places, Where I walked high, and confident, it has never touched. I see the footprints of others, joining mine. Some only for a short while, most just for an instant, Going a different direction. And then those precious few, stretching forever, beside mine, With no intention of parting. There are some that tried to mask my prints. Uncontent to walk beside, only happy to press theirs over the top, Trying to erase me. But their feet are always smaller, theit tread always lighter, And people looking over our prints notice and laugh at the futility. Some as they go, see too that what they do is pointless, And choose to walk beside me instead. Others just drift away Slowly into the soft sand, where they can be seen for a while, But are soon swept away and forgotten. I can see the places where I paused to enjoy the sounds, The smells and the views around me.  And those places, Where my pace has qickened, And stride lengthened to escape the cold gusts, Or rough waves that threatened me. My prints are always forward.  Towards a goal on the edge of view. No matter how twisting the path, or deep the sand, The goal will always be reached, And then another is then instantly found to follow, Where ever it may lead. As I look back, over my footprints in the sand, I marvel at how far I’ve come.  But as I look forward, I can see how much farther still to go, How much sand there is still to walk on, And how many more prints there are, still to walk beside. Written October 4th, 2001 © on Oct 04 2001 03:54 PM PST   18 • 0 • 12