Walk On Sacred Shoes

I stood there, in the sacred place...and prayed. Every time I closed my eyes, the hundreds, shuffled round. I opened up my eyes, to see, the many I could hear...and wondered, for their feet were gone, and there was nothing there.

Again, I closed my eyes to pray, as shuffling feet moved round, quietly, without a word, or any other sound. I knew now, many spirits were, sweet people, come to watch, and sensed...they meant no harm at all, but to stand in the gate of another world, beside me there.

I suppose, most come, most visitors...to watch and stare, at a lonely sandstone rock, but I tell you, here, this indiginous place, there is something more. If you cannot see, then pray...with the eye of the heart, for as moccasins softly shuffle on those ancient soles...I was there, and it's true.

If you ever come this way, please honor, with a quiet heart, the humble ways of this special place, that walks on sacred shoes.


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: Navajo reservation, google pic