Footprints of a Prophet

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    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