Muck Boots and White Running Shoes

Leaping, squishing, sliding, hopping.

A mad, messy dash to the other side.

Dodging, ducking, there’s no stopping,

Or pivoting sprinklers will catch my stride.

Through a backyard gauntlet, I commence,

Across freshly-soaked, grass-seeded dirt.

To the spigot valve just beyond the fence,

I must move quickly and stay alert.

As I haphazardly approach the destination,

Avoiding jet streams, surprisingly,

A rush of regret and a flood of frustration 

Wash over me rather quickly.

In a hurry to get the job done,

I opted to forgo a shoe change,

And donned footwear from an earlier run.

Why white sneakers exist is just strange.

But my efforts to avoid streaks of muck 

Sadly did not come to fruition.

This novel revelation struck

While squishing and sliding mid-mission.

Had I taken the time to boot up,

And worn the appropriate gear,

Not only does it mean less cleanup,

But peace would replace worry or fear.

In the right shoes, footing is secure;

Ready to navigate, each step bold. 

Relying on their protection when unsure,

For with the gospel of peace, they are soled.

There are roads to run, floors to dance, 

Trails to hike, and waters to wade.

There are stairs to climb, hallways to prance,

Aisles to walk, and fields to grade.

And there are seeds to sow and to hydrate,

When I stop to take a look around. 

Peace can begin to permeate, 

When we gear up before hitting the ground.

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