These Feet.

These feet are tired and worn at the end of the day.

But they have taken me far.

These feet have walked and carried me through miles of happiness to heal heartbreak.

These feet have walked the sidewalks of great writers and the literati, and have climbed the steps to discover the sacred heart of Paris.

These feet have walked hallways of the most famous artists, soaking in knowledge, dreams and visions of art that live for eons beyond the 500 years since they were created on canvas or stone.

  

   
 These feet have gripped the sides of a vespa and have carried this soul past the river seine over many bridges and the bridge of love.

These feet also somehow have found their way to dance in the streets of Paris.
Under the stars.

And these feet have been swept off the ground and whisked away on a midnight tour of lights in the city.

 These feet found the way towards the land of gastronomy where generous plates of saucisson and cheese were worked off by climbing 287 steps to see present and future of Lyon stand before her from a cathedral on a hilltop.

These feet have stood at a vista that overlooks two rivers that cross and converge into one and marry into a village that honors land and nature through food and wine.

These feet have walked through corridors of famous chefs, artisans and painters…

  
    
  

…and have walked quickly to escape unwelcome shadows that may follow her at early night…

…and have navigated linguistic naivitee to turn down dinner invites…

…or get lost in conversation with locals.

These feet have walked countryside through soils that grow wine and through cities that transcend borders, language and cultures in the capital cities of the EU. And rested themselves amongst the company of family and new friends.

These feet have walked past a maze of alleys and canals, replacing every calorie burned with the best trifecta of carbs in the form of beer, fries and waffles that only Brugge and Brussels can offer.

  
  
And then these feet were carried by train across the chunnel to wander an island that houses royalty, palaces and gardens watching the changing of guards and wandering to discover the most delightful afternoon teas.

  

And magically, these feet found an impromptu date with Shakespeare and stood in the glow of actors and actresses that allow us to travel back in time.
And these feet had to return to Paris, so that the last ground she would step on leaving Europe was Parisian soil.
Because Paris was the place that captured her heart. Where she cried tears of hurt into the Seine. Where she shed tears of happiness in the rain wandering the streets. Where she released tears of relief admiring the beauty of sunsets over bridges.

Paris made the black hole in her heart less black and more gray.

And the romantic air of the lights, streets, language, food, culture, art and beauty in the city of lights made her believe that her light could sparkle once more.

And these feet found themselves swept up once more with toes in the grass, walking through gardens and feet up on the plages along the Seine.

And these feet crossed paths once again with linguistic conversation tangled with misnomered French, English and Italian phrases. And google translator. And laughter.

These feet have crossed bridges big and tall over seven rivers.

These feet have walked over 150 miles across five countries, seven cities on one continent.

And as far as these feet have gone, these feet were originally nervous to go on this journey…and perhaps apprehensive.

But this journey has been magical and has led her to freedom. And this journey taught her something about herself.

That she is capable  will find a way to laugh again.

And giggle.

And see joy in everyday again.

And these feet will continue to face forward. Onward.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Lovely post… Maybe the feet need a good rest… Ha!

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