Senan Of Somerset

Sandals

 

 

Mid summer and I’ve been on my favorite local walk again. The smells of late August fill the air and the hedgerows are starting to show the fruit of autumn. I’ve got my favorite stick, but think to myself that although there’s a stream to cross, the wellington boots are a little too warm.

Sometimes I meet a fellow traveller out on this road. Sometimes a familiar face, sometimes a stranger…

Sandals

Walking on this dusty road, I came across a man
Smartly dressed and young in face with just a hint of tan
Modern clothes, mobile phone and trousers straight with crease
And yet no rush shows in his eyes, this is a man at peace.

So strange to meet a business man, while on my morning walk
Even more a man of peace, perhaps a chance to talk
But something strange now greets my eye, continuing my amble
The tailored suit so cut and smart now ends in foot and sandal

“Hello” I say to be polite, with enquiry in my voice
As I try to hide my gaze upon his curious footwear choice
“A lovely day with sunshine too. Just perfect for a stroll”.
“The sunlight on the hedgerows green – it simply lifts the soul”.

“You’ve strange attire to walk alone in this old dusty place”
He smiles, but lines of age cut across this sculptured face
Dressed more for office block, contracts, trade and deals
Business, commerce, pension funds, and all expenses meals.

“The fashion of my clothes will match the last to whom I spoke,
The last of which at London town, you’d call a city bloke”.
“Yes, but surely walking pavements hard, you’d need some better shoes
As you talk of stocks and shares and the latest financial news ?”

“He sends me out to encourage all who try and walk his way,
But my shoes came from another job, a very special day
They killed a man upon a cross, innocent of crimes
Heaven and earth were upside down, in the very darkest times.

They took his clothes and gave him stripe and nail and spear and thorn
And gambled for his cloak as one, as they did not want it torn.
So I was sent to get what’s left, a pair of shoes you see
And sent to walk this earth from then, to help good folk to be.”

Before I know he’s walking on, and now has passed me by
He passed with such a holy grace, yet something caught my eye.
Was that a flash of wing I saw, one beat of mystic light
It makes me stop dead in my tracks with just a hint of fright.

I turn to see the stranger leave and thank him for his time
But the man of suit has disappeared, no sound no face no sign
But walking in his place I see, another familiar walk
Turning not, he raised his stick, as a thank you for the talk

My soul refreshed now fills my all, and leaks out in a smile
As now I must continue on, to walk my favorite mile
For he was dressed in clothes like mine, no suit and tie so neat
Yet there in place of wellingtons, were sandals on his feet.

Return to Poetry page