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Footprints on the sands

Did the sandman open my eyes to the blue tides, Or was it the gamboling wind that constantly sanders? The bald eagle just crossed the windscreen, Surfing with the white wings of time. The footprints on the sands keep telling me With the warm touch of earth beneath, Did I meet a man with a heart as big That has room enough for all my follies? Did I see a deed that is sealed with a touch of hope, After sacrifice is committed?

No more than an instant, till the steps are touched By constant feet of passerby, Let the footprints outlive the fallen, Sighing with signs that only man can make.

Procyon Mukherjee, 1.1.05

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