Poems About God

His Feet

The first time I saw him
this man walking up a dusty road
this man I had heard of
this man whose face I wanted to see some day
but today was not going to be that day
I was blinded

by the setting sun behind him
His face melted into the brilliance of that sun
As I looked down I could see his feet
he was walking barefoot as if
he wanted to be directly connected
to the ground
his feet were unremarkable
I was somewhat disappointed
what did I expect?
his footprints however were different
they were full of detail
the outline of every toe
the hills and valleys of every crevice
I could see it all
they remained in place for me to examine
as if the dirt couldn't rush in to erase them
I placed my foot in one of the prints
to my surprise it fit perfectly
as if it had been my foot walking on the ground that day
for a moment I considered walking in his perfect footprints
but I didn't want to go where he was going

The second time I saw him
this man I had heard of
this man whose face I wanted to see some day
but today was not going to be that day
he was walking along a cobble stone road
once again bare footed
this time he was carrying a cross
it rested on his shoulder and blocked my view of his face
but once again I could see his feet
they still would have looked normal
if it wasn't for the blood caked all over them
they appeared blackened and red
I watched standing in a crowd
as his blood dripped onto the cobblestones
I noticed his blood did not run between the cobblestones
instead it remained on top of each stone
as if the stones did not want to give it up
Once again he left footprints, bloody footprints
that remained long after his passing
I put my foot on one and it fit perfectly
as if it had been my foot bloodied and bruised that day
for a moment I considered walking in his footprints
but I didn't want to go where he was going

The third time I saw him
this man I had heard of
this man whose face I wanted to see some day
but today was not going to be that day
he was hanging high above me from a cross
his face hidden in the darkness
but once again I could see his feet
they were nailed into the cross at eye level
his feet were covered in tears that coated the blood
my tears were mixed in with others
I stood there not understanding why
why this man had to die like this
As I looked at his beaten feet I was
relieved I had not followed in his footprints before
because I didn't want to go where he was going

The fourth time I saw him
this man I had heard of
this man whose face I wanted to see some day
I thought once again that today was not going to be that day
It was not the setting sun that blocked my vision
It was not a piece of wood that blocked my vision
It was not the cross that blocked my vision
he was walking towards me bathed in light
light that radiated from his face
light that I was not worthy to look at
so I looked down at his feet
this time he stopped in front of me
he put out his hand and raised my face
"now you can look at me" he said
I looked and I saw him
I saw love
I saw peace
I saw mercy
it was almost more than I could bare
once again his footprints remained on the road
after he passed by
I put my foot in one of them, it fit perfectly
so I put my other foot in the next one and
decided I was going to follow him
because I wanted to go where he was going