Blessed are bare feet, flashing against concrete too hot to the touch. Like they can’t get off quick enough. Like there’s nothing more exhilarating.
Blessed are bare feet, lost in the tall grass. Among the ants and dirt. Among the sticks and acorns.
Blessed are the bare feet, tender on sharp rocks, tender on pricklers, tender.
Blessed are the summer days spent with feet bare, feeling the earth solidly underneath you. Blessed is the feeling of earth solidly underneath you.