When I was young and small in tooth
I played with things throughout my youth
One special time comes to mind
When I played with your shoes
Too large they were though polished neat
No way they could fit my feet
Yet imagination trumped fact
These shoes were more than I could fill
Though I played with them still
Ignorant of the chore
The owner bore
Not knowing these shoes helped
Feed me
Shelter me
Teach me
And clear paths I would tread one day
Now I am older with shoes of mine
I feel the weight of responsibility
I know my shoes must meet
My shoes become one with me
But as I ponder and reflect
Then a deeper truth emerges
Had those shoes I played with not been filled
Many insights I see would not be for me
The solace of reflection replaced with – nothing
Thank you, Dad, for wearing your shoes
For walking uncertain paths
For standing in your shoes
When others ran from theirs
2/20/2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem of tribute to a father that any man would love to have. Read mine - Many a Mother - Adeline