Snail's Pace

Your animal being

seems to adore these

human trails after the rain.

So does mine.

Your tender body with thin shell

slides a nibbler’s pace

across the leafy expanse,

almost languorous.

When my eyes don’t find you

before my boots

my heart sinks.

Why must you love these trails?

Awake now, my steps slow,

my eyes focus.

What may I learn today

if I can stay awake,

to our tender bodies,

mine and yours, coexisting

in the safety of my loving awareness,

with you leading the way?