October 7, 2016

The Feet of a Traveler. {Poem}

Jake Ingle/Unsplash

An Ode to a Wandering Soul.

I walk alone under a bedazzled sun
scorching gravel beneath my feet
toes aching, blisters in my soles
every bare footstep embraces jagged stone,
every twig and pebble scraping at my flesh
mocking my existence
determined to stumble and mislead
an untamed soul.

These feet have seen it all
from the highest peaks
to the lowest valleys
treading the deceitful sands of the desert
to the calming knowledge of the streams—
have felt every texture
every crevasse and particle
malice and joy alike.

Who am I?
I am a seeker of divine truth
a navigator of self discovery
a warrior on a mission
a force of nature—
no wall, no mountain
no living creature that walks this Earth
can stand in my way
or doom me to ruin.

Bloody feet, tired feet
lead me to a place
where the grass is green and soft
a place where you can move along
in intricate tribal dances
spinning gracefully in silhouettes
like vermilion flames,
feeling every delicate beat
pulse through my body
when heels collide with firm ground,
bring me to a place
where you can rest and heal
until we once again continue on our journey
through the rocky terrain that we call life.

Pealing back the silk bandages
you will be reborn
and your strength will be replenished;
we shall carry on down the dirt path
into an unknown abyss.

My feet
wonderful, beautiful feet
you are the feet of a traveler.


Author: Kayla Lynn Ozimek

Image: Jake Ingle/Unsplash

Editor: Toby Israel


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