Counting Footsteps
Today I want to take a walk,
Out past the shallow ponds-
Wading among the pale body of the moonlit bay-
Walking on rich dry sand.
Until the sun, rising,
Interrupts me-
Breaks the charm.
I want to capture in my open palm
The shooting stars
I’ve never seen at night
(You cannot count what you cannot hold)
The tart salt spray
Has some echo with my bones-
I think some part of me is drawn from here-
The minerals among the dark mud
Cling to my feet-
I must have some ancestors here,
Along the shore,
Slowly disappearing.
If you believe in footsteps
(you can always count with your ear instead)
Leading somewhere
Then maybe what I’ll find,
You’ll discover too.
I’ll start out early,
Taking only that with which I was born.
Those certain, constant things,
Of which there are so few.
I’ll walk barefoot,
Barefaced and
Open hearted
Into the arch of the waves.
I’ll feel the thud as cold instead of sound.
Skyward pointing,
Smiling,
My feet will sink into the sand.
Waves will lap at my face as I disappear.
How will you follow me here?
This depression leaves no footsteps.
People do not leave neat conclusions.
A note, signed before we leave, is only words-
And if I cannot hold your love, I cannot count it.
This, I plan to undertake at morning.
I am calm, though the sea is not.
She is calling me to walk:
Now softly,
Now loudly-
walk
I take a cold lead step
walk
Don’t try to find me,
Despair leaves no depression.
Out past the shallow ponds-
Wading among the pale body of the moonlit bay-
Walking on rich dry sand.
Until the sun, rising,
Interrupts me-
Breaks the charm.
I want to capture in my open palm
The shooting stars
I’ve never seen at night
(You cannot count what you cannot hold)
The tart salt spray
Has some echo with my bones-
I think some part of me is drawn from here-
The minerals among the dark mud
Cling to my feet-
I must have some ancestors here,
Along the shore,
Slowly disappearing.
If you believe in footsteps
(you can always count with your ear instead)
Leading somewhere
Then maybe what I’ll find,
You’ll discover too.
I’ll start out early,
Taking only that with which I was born.
Those certain, constant things,
Of which there are so few.
I’ll walk barefoot,
Barefaced and
Open hearted
Into the arch of the waves.
I’ll feel the thud as cold instead of sound.
Skyward pointing,
Smiling,
My feet will sink into the sand.
Waves will lap at my face as I disappear.
How will you follow me here?
This depression leaves no footsteps.
People do not leave neat conclusions.
A note, signed before we leave, is only words-
And if I cannot hold your love, I cannot count it.
This, I plan to undertake at morning.
I am calm, though the sea is not.
She is calling me to walk:
Now softly,
Now loudly-
walk
I take a cold lead step
walk
Don’t try to find me,
Despair leaves no depression.