Footprints

I was walking one brisk morning and discovered footprints in the snow. Who would travel in this cold? Where could they have to go? Thoughts began to stir and unrest became my soul. Curiosity gained control Where they led I had to know. In steps I began to follow the tracks left far behind walked with a pair of feet slightly larger than mine. They led me on for hours until I reached a great pine tree. Who would venture to this wood? Who could this person be? Perhaps a timid young man trying to find a sense of self or a wondering widow searching for someone's help. The wind humbled my cheeks. This knowledge could not be mine as the needles solemnly fell from the strong and noble pine. Those footsteps help their secrets. I had not gained, I had not grown. As I turned away to leave I realized I had left my own.