Under My Bare Feet

The road does not end,
but rather begins
under my feet.

It is not defined,
there are no lines
under my feet.

It goes everywhere,
and nowhere
under my feet.

It rises and falls,
it winds and it calls
under my feet.

The road captures time,
memories horrid, sublime
under my feet.

The Earth is the road,
as I am told,
under my bare feet.