Going Barefoot

Oh, I love this!

I'm also unshod most of the year, and I wrote something similar to your poem as part of a written assignment for school last year.

We were supposed to look at the relationship between ourselves and a species of our choosing; I chose a species of bladderwort - a wonderful carnivorous plant genus.

I hope it's not too intrusive of me to add it here. It's not perfect, but I do like some parts of it.

"There is a striking difference between my feet and the lacelike structure of bladderwort.
The muddy water is kind enough to hide most of my extremities from sight, though it can not obscure the memories I've transcribed in sedge and moss.

A transgression; we inspect our bodies. You; a floating mesh of green, making – underneath, extended limbs hide another truth. I feel out of place with my body towering above, out of range – I lift my head and look around these borderlands; a home for so many things unseen. A futile voice emante between us; we hope that I am the last one here. This world does not need our language – it already has its own; a restless song, the unheard voices of the unseen – far from unsung.

Tangible; though we care not for what we do not see.

Perception; we lost ourselves in a world created, constricted by our axiom - an image of ourself.

Reminisce the true world; the many worlds. Tangible and present bare feet away,

estranged ~

There is something otherwordly
in an exchange by a bare foot
Suddenly, there are things that hurt –

places that seem out of range

There is a lesson to be learned in our discomfort
and not only that of a bare foot kiss

I lower my gaze, extend an apology and draw back to the blinding sounds of human culture.
I have heard it called a natureculture, a conjoining – naught but a distant, fevered dream? A half truth, mayhap – it is a fool that seperates us from our roots, but the wise fool knows that not even the strongest roots can bind our elder´s beauty. Alas, we have a tendendcy for spoilage; the wisest fool has the audacity to be humble, to become less.

Imagine you and I; standing in the world of bladderwort not the size of ”men”, but instead the size of water mite and flea. We wouldn't float above, out of range – we would succumb to a vast body of water; swimming, crawling between stalks of sedge and moss. From a safety of size, reduced to prey for beings previously nonexistant – things that were crushed beneath your feet; unshod or not.

We would try to get out of the open, to be out of sight – a safe haven. In a sad twist of fate, you accidently brush against the hairs of a bladder hidden down under, we are swept into another world – a world of life and death, of transaction. The gate would close behind us, condemning us to dissolve into nothingness, into nothing that is everything.

The name we gave you, isn't the name you deserve
a name forged in misunderstanding
Like a diety of another dimension, watching from afar
a creator; a world of life and death

We gave you a name fitting ourself ~
Reminisce the true world, the many worlds

Lift your gaze,

this is the land of a silent hunter
the world of the unsung."