The Quietness of Feet

When I travel I always come a little closer to understanding my feet.
how they have grown.
how far they’ve come.

Traveling makes me more dependent on my feet than any other circumstance.
They alone decide my agenda and my schedule.
They take me where I need to go and help me find home in a unfamiliar city.
The stronger they are, the more I can see.

My soles have begun to crack and harden.
The side effect of slippers and the summers.
Today I hiked to a lighthouse in my slippers.
Today I ran, discarding them at the high tide line, bare feet and hot sand.
Today I tripped and scraped my skin.
Today they browned in the sun.

Yet my feet never say anything.
They throb with no drama, and grime with no complaint.
They ache at the last hour and still will carry on if I will.
They heal without attention.
Even in the shower they wash secondhand.

Today I bent down to love my feet.
Rubbed the skin soft in my fingers.
Decided to say,
your strength is my support.
your support is my strength.

Thank you for walking my life always, without fail.
Thank you for taking me forward.
How beautiful you are.
How beautiful.

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