Footprints
A poem of hereditary
Tide and time perform a mime,
as waves splash on the shore,
covering up the footprints,
of those that came before.
In the morn the pristine beach,
is left smooth and glistening,
the murmurs of the ocean winds,
and shore fringes are listening.
To voices from another time,
passed down through generations,
some stories blown on the breeze,
communicated in vibrations.
I hear your voice from long ago,
synchronicity and sixth sense,
gather fragments of information,
in past and future tense.
The footsteps that you left behind,
mark places where you walked,
and now the whispers in the trees,
are the words that you once talked.
Though the years separate us,
you are still here by my side,
your life and our hereditary,
is where I now reside.
In some ways from far away
your footsteps in the sand,
lead me to the life I live,
left written by your hand.
©
David Rudder
7th July 2020
Thank you for reading.
