Boots
By Shaheen
P Parshad
We’ve marched through
mud and moonlit streets,
Through market cries
and silent retreats.
Our soles have known
the farmer’s tread,
The soldier’s march,
the child’s soft pad.
We’ve felt the rush
of city rain,
And the hush of snow
on distant plains.
We’ve carried lovers
to whispered vows,
And borne the weight
of broken brows.
From sunrise’s gold
to twilight’s sigh,
We’ve walked both joy
and sorrow’s eye.
We’ve slipped on
cobblestones of hope,
And slipped again
where doubts elope.
Now we stand in quiet
corner, still,
A pair of leather,
worn at heel.
Our laces fanged by
time’s soft bite,
We listen for the
footfall’s light.
Will a new hand lift
us, or stay,
In this dim corner,
night to day?
Will we tread a road
of sunrise bright,
Or end up in the
darkness of an eternal night?
Perhaps a wanderer,
heart unbound,
Will lace us up and
claim the ground.
Or maybe we’ll rest,
a silent pair,
Dreams of journeys
tucked in leather’s care.
Our story’s ink runs
deep, never dry,
Each scar a verse,
each step a sigh.
And though our steps
may one day end,
The roads we walked
will still extend.
So here we stand,
humbled, aware,
Awaiting the next
step’s flare.
Until then, we
whisper to the wind,
“Walk on, dear world,
till the road’s end.”
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