“It’s what you find beneath your feet that holds you up,”
She said to me;
I had stopped a moment in her sacred space
To explain the ill-wind that was blowing in my face.
I could have offered more of what I was about
But she turned her thoughts from me.
It gave me pause to disregard her intent,
Give a deeper possibility to what the words meant.
Do we always cherish those who care for us,
Those who give us all the space we need,
Yet watch from afar should our missteps cause us to bleed?
Like an old raincoat that keeps us from the drenching;
It becomes something we use, not something we cherish.
So it is with the earth beneath our feet.