Footprints of a Prophet


I had wanted to follow
Because a prophet had walked there,
Even though the snow and silence were
Reason enough for a walk through
The quiet crispness of this winter evening.
I was grateful for the snow
Because I could see his footprints there,
And I measured my own against his,
Fitting my foot to his footprint,
Falling short, but hoping and building,
Example by example, precept upon precept,
Following on the footprints of a prophet.
As I watched and stretched step by step,
Assurance flowed liquid over
The quiet cushion of snow,
A sure but quiet testimony
That here are the footprints of a prophet—
Follow them.

[photo] Photo by Royce Bair