Feet

Everywhere, feet upon the same earth, like the bases of trees going down to deep roots, the small pads of soles, the tiny parts of the body's surface that alone touch the ground, supporting our whole frame. See how every stride gains traction from the earth, how working together, two feet can take a person onward in a straight line forever. Watching feet striding, I see the cantilevered systems of muscles working together, moving the body along, arms swinging, the dance of walking. I do not see the mind that wills, the operator in the machine, nor the map of where the feet are going, or why. The spirit, sensed through eye-windows and muscle tone, remains invisible. One footsoldier doing the bidding of a soul stops at one shop, one at another. in this world of vast possibilities.