It begins the moment you’re born,
maybe even those nine months
where you’re not technically alive yet,
only a mass of forming bones
and building tissues,
with roadways of veins
under construction.

Yes, once that little aorta of yours twitches
as it takes on its duty to keep a steady
thum-thump rhythm no matter what challenge
it’s put up against;
once that little heart starts beating
is when footprints form.

They sink into the soft tissues
lining your heart,
even when you’re least aware of it.
After all, you couldn’t possibly
be aware of your parents’ care,
so early in life but so overpowering.
They love you before they can even
lay eyes on your pudgy little fingers and toes.

Their footsteps will never disappear;
no tide of blood can rinse the prints
from your heart. Footprints will
circumnavigate your aortas,
exploring the ventricles,
but ultimately it will be up to you
who you let penetrate your thick layers of tissue.