I have been contemplating Psalm 85 in particular lately. This week the final line: He will make his footsteps a way, pushed a prayer from me. “Please wear bright red shoes then because I need more help than this.” Poetry is where I work things out, let them ruminate, play with the possibilities. This image was too lovely to let it slip away.
Dear Master of the Universe,
Please wear your galaxy shoes
with glow in the dark comets
and sequin stars that flash
in the sun, you know the ones
with heel lights that pulse
with every step. I could follow
then, as your footsteps make a way
for my steps. By night, by day
it wouldn’t matter, I could still see,
even if you get ahead or I fall behind,
become distracted, or discouraged.
Even if, God forbid, I fall for real.
Those shoes would do your calling
because I know that you save words
for extraordinary moments. This next stretch
looks uncomplicated (only you know),
but with those shoes flashing, beckoning
I think I’d be able to pick it up,
set my course again and follow you.
© 2017 – Laurel Archer
Photos – Pixabay.com