Ode to My Shoes - A Poem by Johnathan Falk

Falling stars give birth
To never ending light like
Dying grains bearing bountiful fruit
In the giving process
I'm making miracles just for me
Stained and greasy
Carrying the magic with me
Its residual caked on my shoes
Dirt from different continents
Sand from both oceans breast
Mud and rain at varying altitudes
Collecting dew in the soles
Permanent falling away
Ditches and gravel
Pebbles and dust
So much
Concrete
City grime cement marathons
Climbing on top of the sky
To tombs beneath the earth
My shoes
Have holes
They're ripped and torn
Gathering character in crippled age
Broken but serving the purpose
Stinking but I'm used to it
By now
Clay ranging from
Gold red brown gray black and
Rich unnamable hues
The very world stuck in my shoes
Flinting tiny specks sparkle in sunlight
Worn and creased they carry the memory
Of numerous countries, climates
All the pick up trucks, highways and
Mountain trails
I take them off to swim in water falls, sleep
And air out my swollen feet
Smudged on the planets surface my shoes
Are like my intangible soul
A personality containing this body within it
Touched and changed by all these places
Collecting memories incarnated by
The diverse arrangement of impressions.
Walking lessons
The school Iím studying
Pacing the globes curve
Hoping to learn
Any-all-every-some thing
Sometimes toes cramp and
My ducts tear
Leaking salt from a faucet
I donít know where
Old and young I have wrinkles
By my eyes from
Smiling and squinting
The joy of road glare.