By the Feet of a Little One

Imprints of tiny toes
mold the soft ground
on up the hill

I am heavy with breathing
with dreaming
and fear

the feet of a little one
invisible
a mystery
you are calm to anxious eyes
and sweet to the unsatisfied tongue

remind me how to remember
or to be content to not

I will drag on up the path behind you
in your silent pilgrimage

and

maybe there is something beautiful in not knowing
something deep
unsounded

I won’t ask you any more questions
you will have to show me
the way