Footsteps In The Sand.
Walking along the beach I looked back and saw my footprints in the sand. They were mixed with thousands of others prints, with nothing to distinguish between mine and anyone else’s.
So I choose to walk closer to the water, were there are fewer prints. I traveled along until I watched the water wash up and touch my legs, obliterating prints in front of me, leaving nothing for me to follow.
I chose to keep walking. Making fresh prints where none were before.
I met another along my path. He walked behind me for a while until we grew less shy. He joined me, our steps parrel, Together marking the beach, setting a path for others to follow.
Sometimes he would leave. Wander away leaving me alone. My tears would fall, hitting the sand next to my prints, until he came back.
To teach him a lesson, I wandered away, once or twice. But we would always come back to each other.
Sometimes I would stumble over hidden obstacles, to proud to look at the path before me. His hand would steady me, catch me before I fell. In turn I would catch him in his times of need.
That’s just the way things were.
One time, in my greatest need, He grabbed me, preventing me from falling. I took his hand, and held tightly. And never let it go. We have not separated since.
I now know that while I am marking a previously unmarked path, I am not doing it alone.
And let the truth be told I wouldn’t want to travel alone anymore.