by Barbara Marwell

Footsteps in the sand
Erased by the wind.
Footsteps in the soil
Washed away by the rain.
Climbing hills, walking difficult trails.
We are but a flicker in time.

Brought love and joy to some
Good deeds, comforting words,
Sometimes unintended hurts.

After us live our children
Carrying on good lives.
Then their children
Generations and generations to come.

Will they walk a loving, giving path?
Might there be an artist in some future line of mine?
A poet, a painter, a novelist, a sculptor
A scientist, a philosopher?
As many possibilities as I can dream.

One whose work will endure
Whose footsteps will not be washed away
By wind or water.
Whose flickering candle brings light
to the world.
Imagining that legacy gives me joy.

In the far far past, Barbara Marwell was an English major with a concentration in writing. After spending her professional life as a psychologist and finding yet another incarnation  at LP², an assignment from David Grogan’s Guided Autobiography SG, triggered this poem —  a glance backward and forward.