After dad died I inherited some of his belongings. Items that wouldn’t have held any significance otherwise but quickly became really important to me. One of those items was an old pair of brown leather shoes. I actually really liked the shoes, from a “fashion” standpoint. They looked good with jeans so I wore them a lot. I wore those shoes out. Walked in them until they fell apart. One day, just a few months after his passing I had spent the day walking around Chicago in his shoes. They were so worn out that I could feel the ground beneath me. I remember feeling connected to the earth  and to dad and to creation. I wrote the following piece when I got home that night. It’s been 7 years today.

Your Shoes

Saturdays can be the sadder days, so I walk in your shoes

I keep my head up and my heart on and I walk in your shoes

I laugh big and hate less when I walk in your shoes

I move slow to take in what’s around me, what’s important

And it all holds truth because I’m walking in your shoes

I feel the earth turn beneath me when I walk in your shoes

I see the time ticking sweetly as I walk in your shoes

My motions have a “this is right” mentality when I walk in your shoes

My steps reclaim significance regardless of my circumstance and for that reason

I walk in your shoes

I pick a point and pursue it when i walk in your shoes

I pick a point and whether I’m walking, jogging, running, tripping, climbing, falling, backtracking, trudging, gliding, flying, redirecting, or stumbling accidentally through the finish-line… I get there.

I get to the point I chose and grab that point with authority and purpose

Because I got there in your shoes

I walk in your shoes to feel that I’m headed towards you

That I’ve tapped into your ideas and your motivations

And that you’ve blessed me with the foresight to see what’s ahead of me without disregarding or cheapening the things that have brought me here and made me who I am

I walk in your shoes because it’s easy and comfortable

I slip into those shoes because they are home

I walk in your shoes because it’s a challenge and a struggle

And I squeeze into those shoes because as much as it hurts to wear them it hurts far worse to walk without them

I stand tall in the chaos and I walk in your shoes

I stand content and connected in the silence and I walk in your shoes

I stand barefoot and simple and I walk in your shoes

I stand

I breath

I move

And I walk in your shoes

Categories: Faith, PoetryTags: dad, death, family, father, grief, hope, loss, love, Poetry, shoes, spoken word