Little Hearts in Big Shoes

When we are young, we run barefoot.

We dance in Mom or Dad's shoes.

We dream of being grown up and seeing the world.

We begin our lives swaddled, held, warm.

We grow older and we seek freedom.

To us, freedom is independence.

To us, freedom is the number of years we count...

...blowing out birthday candles...

...finishing years of school...

...growing out of clothes...

...saying hellos...

...saying goodbyes...

We don't realize it, but like the grass that rises through concrete under the sun, we are older. Sometimes wiser. Sometimes not.

We find ourselves seeking companionship again.

We bind ourselves, heart and soul.

Sometimes young, sometimes old.

We grow.

...sometimes, not at the same time...

...sometimes, not at the same rate...

...sometimes, we grow together...

...sometimes, we grow apart...

When our hearts are bound and our souls collide, we see the paths we could have taken. The risks we wouldn't face, the chances we wouldn't take. We see the things we could have done, but didn't do, for fear of losing love. For fear of losing money. For fear of losing ourselves.

We look down at our feet.

Some are weathered and beaten.

Some are soft, pressed into velvet cushions of caution.

Some are blistered from focused toil.

Some are shriveled, muscle atrophied from disuse.

When we grow, we choose a direction.

We leave behind our heart that felt we could do anything, everything.

When we grow, we age and become the person we never thought we could be -

For better or for worse.

We reach a point somewhere between sunset and sunrise where we wonder,

Is this the beginning or the end?

And yet, here I am, some think I'm still young.

A leader I may be, even if I don't want to be.

An adult carrying the weight,

Waiting for someone bigger...

To pick me up...

To say, "Don't worry,"

To hold my faith.

And again, here I am,

Dancing barefoot,

Remembering little feet,

Wishing I could fit into those now tiny shoes.