Feet Poem by Max Reif

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.