My shoes, indicative of an old sole; years are irrelevant, tears inevitable. Fear, plays no role in determining, my sole’s worth. This old soul of mine, stitched, enriched. Etched deep within my being; I am, an old soul. Wise beyond years, because, deeply love peers. Helping my soul, withstand cascading tears. At the crux, of life’s systematic flux, love’s enduring nexus. On the other foot, with situation reversed; will always put best foot forward, to walk a mile. Within depth of my sole, weariness takes its toll. Some days, I slip into the day with ease, but mostly, I lace up my heart, tangibly gird my soul. So juxtapose, when life’s briskness sways, brushing up against my sole. My heart, won’t be at risk tripping, over a wayward ego. Days, when the sun doesn’t shine, love’s endearing reign seeps, causing my whether proofed soul, become drenched… deeply. Every day, the never ending quest, not to beat my chest, but pass love’s endless test. My sole’s conquest, my heart knowing; distance overcomes the miles. Love isn’t a contest, but heartfelt moments, swayed by its soulful context. In living, we ponder bodies getting buffed, not realizing, our souls are getting scuffed. Acting tuff, until someone calls our bluff; our facade wearing it well, but our posture has its tell. To those whom we love, we must be willing to bare our soul, show our vulnerability. Soles of our feet, taking the first step, towards healing, enlightenment. Oh, my soul, reminiscing the days of old, of a sole so bold; rejecting capitulation, longevity’s toil. New horizons, life’s traversing of an old sole, one’s heart journeying to deep places. Revealing the fabric of your soul’s innermost; wherewith, love’s instrumental means are found. With every step taken, unearthing its enableable breadth, love’s sublime meaning!

WCR