Footprints

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Tread softly but leave
fragile footprints
on moonstruck hearts
in awe-inspiring
infectious laughs
like the tinkling of bells
blowing in the softest
wind whispering through
this melodic journey.
Stand oak-strong,
submissive to fortune
unsprung with no
reservations, advancing
like a foot soldier under
torrential drumming.
Forge blind currents and
reform the rivers regretting
the bridges that should
have been toppled,
the dams that should
have been truncated
to dance in the eddies
clouding the vat overflowing
with vinegar pleasant
in sourness, expected
in the wound of tomorrow
but unsought for on
morning’s blades of grass,
the dew drops slipping
silently onward, heeding
the call as obedient as stars
drowned by city lights.

(dtn)

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