You

You squeaked when I first felt you.
You rubbed and squeezed and warmed me

Held me safely while I climbed,
Sat with me as the sun shined,
And the rain fell, the wind blew
And the wind blew, tossing its hand through me tousled hair.

You were there

Criss-crossing lanes of cobbled stones where my dreams were on loan.
From past time-travellers stricken down into the tomb,
Their wisdom weaving in and out of my womb
The end of the road always came too soon……

For me
and you.

Molded as one we become.
Peak to peak, year by year, month by month and mile by mile
Sleeping rough and low or sleeping homely high awhile,
We were launched into ancestral skies,
Stealing secrets while we slept, of answers to the whys.

Your cracked, supple skin now suctions to my satisfied soul and have made my journey whole.
(A decade of seeking, beseeching and aching and racking myself through the coals.)

The end of the road always came too soon for me
And for you

My humble haggard hiking shoe.