Footprints

The sun rises; the sun sets.

It is another day.

Another path to tread,

To leave footprints in the dirt.

Or to pass unnoticed.

Counting only seconds

Only minutes

Held not within the turn of the earth

But trapped within the turn of the clock.

When sirens speak

To start your day

With clamour abhorrent

While you still lay

Clinging to dreams and wishes and fear;

Then rise and wake and listen.

Not because the alarm tells you to;

Not because it is routine;

Not because you follow another

But simply so at the end of another day

You may turn behind

And see with pride

The footprints left firmly marked

Where you have walked.

 

inspired by dear friends (c) 2012

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