Shoeless Steps
Fear finds its fondest
colour in our blood,
splashing our feet,
mocking our holy ground,
turning our defences
into a bloody wallow,
trying to stick our soul
to its damnable course.
Freedom is but a few
steps away, if I turn.
The door, slightly open.
Brilliant sunlight, shining
through the crack. I push.
The Breeze rushes
and refreshes my spirit.
I leave my shoes behind.
~~~
Paterson Potpourri - June 2005
colour in our blood,
splashing our feet,
mocking our holy ground,
turning our defences
into a bloody wallow,
trying to stick our soul
to its damnable course.
Freedom is but a few
steps away, if I turn.
The door, slightly open.
Brilliant sunlight, shining
through the crack. I push.
The Breeze rushes
and refreshes my spirit.
I leave my shoes behind.
~~~
Paterson Potpourri - June 2005
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