 Trample, trample, trample, the word sticks to me like gum on the sole of my shoe, hidden from view but lodged in the crevices, resisting each step forward. Be gracious to me, O God, for people trample on me. I see myself in Psalm 56, but this time I realize I am the trampler, the oppressor, the one who lurks, waiting to exploit another's fumble. In God I trust, I am not afraid, what can a mere mortal do to me? God help me. I don't want to trample. Forgive me and teach me to tread lightly.