With toes interwined and knees wide leading me to soleitude so wise. What burden would it be to know the weight of your experience my dear feet, of all the ways I’ve harshed and hurt you? When I am far reaching for the future I ache to be on my tippy toes yet you’re gripping my muddied steps from the past. You ask me to stay in the moment and I always wish to go. How often do I gift you a bath, a massage, a salute in honor of all that you take me through? How often do I sit, kneel or lay to be held, to leave my imprint in a way that leaves you to surrender? Is there a time you truly rest or do you dance in my dreams? My soles press together and the light between them hydrates each cell polished by the edges of every rocky pebbled path traveled. And I remember the nearing of Springs blessing. Replenishment of moist grass, deep earth and running waters over you, my wild woman feet. May we cultivate balance of effort and rest.