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Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
I say learn to practice what you preach
You have no rights to tear other people down
Remember this life is a long sandy beach
Each man has a unique print of his own.

So learn to always show love and support
No man is an Island, the famous adage says,
Brother-keeping is what life's entirely about
And kindness is a blessed seed sown for better days.

Love your neighbor as thyself, the good book says
How long will we go contrary to this universal law,
Commanded by God Himself since ancient of days?
A law in which he invested time and love to draw.

So where is humanity, where is that universal love?
It's time for the strong to give the weak a helping hand
The seed of love is the will of the Most High from above
So let love become that unique footprint left in the sand.

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'' Love your neighbor as thyself ! ''...This is the closes we can come to loving and obeying God..
Hannah Jones Oct 2017
You can't hear a footprint.
A mossy indentation in the earth
leaves no sound
yet you know something passed by

You can't hear a footprint
yet I see them all around
I can't grasp the entirety of You through the sole
but Your enormity is evident

You can't hear a footprint
yet I hear the leaves crunch
as legions of squirrels run for cover
The trees rustling
with every whispered breeze
The screech of robins-
two, three, four-
squared off with every other creature
battling for dominion

You can't hear a footprint
but I'll follow the ones I can find
in hopes of reaching You
wherever You've led me
I can't hold Your hand
yet I take comfort in letting my foot
fall where Yours once tread

You can't hear a footprint
but maybe I'll hear You
someday.
“In things of beauty, he contemplated the One who is supremely beautiful, and, led by the footprints he found in creatures, he followed the Beloved everywhere." -St. Bonaventure

I can't hear God when I pray. Thankfully, I don't have to. One step at a time.
Poetic T Sep 2017
I'm but footsteps already fading
even though I have taken many.
People may not realize that this
is but a collage of many footprints
wishing to make theirs stay a while.

But everything is but a collection
that is sold off to time.
It's worn down, till not a memory
of its imprint is left, just a silhouette.
But shades change and new ones cultivate.

Some, only a few.. Collect enough on the
motions of others, that for every few that
fade, one clings to the reflection of others
eyes, and they walk where you walked.
And then another moulds upon one before.

We are then not just a faded footprint of our
time, but a memory. Kept clean by those who
remember our steps, never letting them
corrode but stay visible. For it only takes one
to walk in ours, too know we lived not just a memory.
Poetic T Jun 2017
fossilized footprints
collecting echoes of time

child's footprints do tread
ryn May 2017
.

    oOOo           oOO      OOo     oOo                         
oOOOOo      OOo     Ooo      OO       oOo         
OoOoO                                               Oo          
ooO            •naked feet tread                
  with nonchalance•unafraid
    of what receding tides might
       bring•hardened heels soften
         to sunlit reverence•children
                   frolick accompanied by
                              unguarded peals
                                 that ring•towa-
                                     rd the ocean
                                      vast we halt
                                     to face•we
                                  look to the
                             horizon and
                         dream of un-
                   seen lands•we
          lift one foot with
   the other in place•
is this all we are...  
just impressions    
in the sand?•      

.
Jim Marchel Jan 2017
There is a big difference
Between leaving behind cold tracks
In the snow
And lending a warm hand to lead.
Don't just be a footprint in someone's life when you have the power to be so much more.
Echoes Of A Mind Dec 2015
I know you just died,
But it's not over yet,
'Cause you'll live on
In all the people you have meet

In their memmories
You still exsist
In your music
Your spirit still lives

You've become immortal,
Though you were born to lose
You still managed
To make footprints with your shoes

The fact that you made an impact
On so many lives
Is the simple reason
That your memmory never dies.
Yeah, I'm a fan of Motörhead and this poem just came to me when I heard the terrible news... R.I.P Lemmy
Swathi eruvaram Mar 2015
Mr. Golden sun casting long shadows
Salty breeze hitting across
Acres of sand lying beneath our feet
Ups and downs like craters on the moon
Crows cawing, horses galloping and dogs basking in the sun
A straight line of ocean doodled below the empty sky
Gigantic ships appear like miniatures farther away
Hushing sound of waves
Four feet amidst frothy tides creating footprints
Carrying back some rustic soil on the toes
A little dirt never hurt
A bag of sea shells
Small, big, coloured and white, all with a coat of sand
A bag full of sea shells
The sun sets down
The radiant moon creates a guiding path in the dark shore
Following us back home
After a long evening at the beach
With my dear son
Samantha Dietz Feb 2015
My scars are footprints
pressed in the smooth sand, fading,
salted by the tears of the ocean,
but persistent against the tide.

My map has been drawn
by leaves in the wind, blowing,
following the path of the broken,
but offering no place to hide.

My heart plays a song
with a slow tempo, beating,
calling to the strong souls still hoping,
but unheard by the ones who died.

Follow the footprints if you trace my skin.
Use my map as a guide if I can't let you in.
Listen to my song if words aren't my friend.
And I will love you,
With all that I have left.
///
When the time has returned
Hearts can't go out from you
Lost love seems to be a footprint
Decayed stone is a sign of thy

The last laugh
The flute
Putting forward the images of the day
Today it has grown a big miss for the poet

Spots at matches
Someone calls the untimely
I See
You see
Everything becoming change

Slow
Quick change
You and me
The Trees
The Hills
The River
All

Your restless mind
Grew cold
Even fastest cyclone
Became cool

Leaves fallen
Grew again
Spring came
And moved away

She came
She sang
Again she went away
Never hold back
Just left this footprint

The last laugh
The flute
Putting forward the images of the day
Today it has grown a big miss for the poet
///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Footprint, Today it has grown big miss for the poet
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