dancing boots that hit the town

i don’t think a wrong turn is a wrong turn.

if something doesn’t work out,
the choice to go there is neither wrong or right.

it might have been wrong for you,
or wrong for the time.

you try on shoes
before find the right ones to fit–

choices are like that.

have you ever dug in storage and found
a very old pair of shoes or boots?

they were crusty and old and cracking,
i tried to put my foot into them.

after all, at one time these were my favorites…
the memories!

and i couldn’t even squeeze them on.
the leather was too old and stiff

, my arch was too high,
the buckle was rusted…
there was no way i was going to be able
to step into these boots again.

a sadness rolled over me, a contemplation on
how time was something no impossibility could recapture,

and choices from the past might have worked
for that era–that place

–but now they simply don’t fit.

i find there is no sense arguing with a shoe that doesn’t fit.

those old boots i pulled out of storage,
were not a wrong direction–

but i had to admit that i can’t wear them now.

they served their purpose. they had their time.
and in the same way, my choices have served their purpose;
even bad directions might come to a good end.
and i think that is what faith is about…

we all know what a bad decision is like
–how to warn others.

but sometimes the greatest love
is letting someone make their own mistakes.

that too, is a choice,
but it’s also a forgiveness

; a way of looking back… to
let time have its tale and clomp around in the dancing boots,
nothing better than a smile; even
a wistful one.

choice a thing we don’t appreciate when it
is alive–rocking on the balls of your feet,
the tantalizing notes
of the unknown.

i was not perfect, but i was perfectly amazed,

kicking up the dust on
this particular stretch of eternity
only i occupy, that one soul
occupies with aplomb…

choice is every strength of wisdom,
set free.

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