Footprints

By Robert W. Cluney

You can never show you climbed a mountain

So the wise men say

For the winds of time will blow your footprints away

Once I was a young man, now my hair is turning gray

It comes to mind that the winds of time

Will blow my footprints away

In life I met many people and our lives became intertwined

I hope I made good footprints

Whale walking through their minds

The mind is a rich and fertile

It's not made of clay

So the winds of passing time

Wouldn't blow my footprints away