My feet are small.
And though often
nimble as I nip along my way
strangely clumsy when I stray
from beaten tracks.

I like to go barefoot, too,
at least when grass is tender
or inside where it’s cooler
and in the sand or paddling
in gentle frills of surf.
But harder roads, harsher paths?
Nope, get some shoes on for those,
protect my dainty toes.

If I would climb high hills
stride out through forests
brave thorns and jungles
and thickets –
I need boots.
Footwear to suit
the terrain of these days.

As seasons change
all roads become strange:
I’m off the map now;
track’s getting narrower.
Rocks and stones
might well break my bones
if I don’t sock up
wriggle my fragile toes deep down
into my boots
into peace, into truth,
footwear to suit
the perils of these days.

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