Hidden under stone are footprints
and a path that leads to someplace lost.
Echoes from a time forgotten,
wait for the hand to paint a picture;
for a memory to stir the past
and lift the stone away.
Who’s footsteps are they you may wonder…
do you dare to follow
or wait for someone else to lead the way?
You only need to seek a mirror
and find the eyes to understand.
It is you, as you once were.
You are the painter,
and the path is someplace you were headed
but forgot to find along the way.
When you were young time was never ending.
But age came anyway, as some memories turned sour
and others drifted out of sight.
Take the time to paint it all again
and find the paths you cherished most of all.
Each one is there somewhere inside you
waiting to give back what has been forgotten.
If you don’t they may be lost forever,
scattered through a field where time is gone…
where all that’s left are broken headstones
and names with missing letters that no one knows at all.
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