Another
footfall
Bert Haverkate-Ens
When you pass through the air
your body leaves invisible eddies
behind.
Of course you don’t see them.
But you can very nearly see them
trailing
behind the bodies of others
if you settle.
If you slow your heart rate way
down,
slow your breathing
nearly to a pause,
the people who walk by will seem
to be suspended for moments in
time –
even very small movements will
appear
startlingly clear.
A foot falls, lifting,
a swing forward
that lasts longer than
you could have imagined,
and then again.
It comes to you at a stroke
that each step is one of a kind.
Follow the foot upwards,
see the gait, the pacing.
You will never believe me
even if I tell you everything.
Arms swing, hands at the ends.
Of course I will finally tire of
telling you this,
but then another one strides,
one strolls.
Some time ago I sat down;
I lowered my body
to the pavement.
I sat myself down
in the November sun;
my breath slowed to a pause;
I settled.
And now, finally, after many
people
have passed me by
the sun has continued in its
course,
and now I am at rest in the
shadow
of the building across the
street.
My turn has come to
show the world
what this body
can do.
I rise.
A foot falls, lifts,
swings for a long, lingering,
moment,
then another.
Have yourself a seat,
you will never see
anything quite like it;
if not me,
another will walk by
in good time.
If you settle,
really settle,
you might see the dust
swirling in the wake
of my falling foot.
walktokaw.blogspot.com
Appearances
Bert Haverkate-Ens
As I stood at the light at City Hall,
I observed what appeared to be
a woman,
walking her dog
on the far side of the street
along the warming, red bricks
of the Journal-World building.
Upon reflection, it appeared
that she was holding her hand
away from her body
to avoid getting cigarette smoke
on her skirt,
the dog was only
her shadow on the wall,
and the appearance of a pulling leash
merely her effort to balance
as she walked on high heels.
The woman turned and vanished,
shadow and all, down the alley.
From the silhouette of her legs
it had appeared
that she was an attractive woman.
But who am I
to judge a woman
on fleeting appearances.
As the light changed,
another shadow appeared
to help a blind man
to the other side
of the street.
Zen Walking
Bert Haverkate-Ens
When I round the last corner of my walk
I sometimes fix my gaze
on a bright square of sidewalk
a block and a half distant
and try to think of nothing
but walking to that square.
I begin to breathe more deeply.
My stride strengthens.
My gait settles in.
Every molecule in my body lifts.
My mind …
One day I'll walk past my own front door without even noticing.
One day I won't even notice that I'm walking.
Not so far.
walktokaw.blogspot.com
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