Sometimes i crisscross paths intended for others. I wander like this over the gentle trodded deep down damp verdigree’d green green grass into soft plasticene soil. Pressed over time and under foot to become a memory of routes before taken.

This path holds memories better than I, but then what else do these paths need to remember. The bedded grass lies gentle parallel upon mildewed mud, pointing the way forward or perhaps from where i have come. Are they struggling to get to their feet and point skyward once again like their yogic brethren, or perhaps not struggling at all but finally released from the constant surge toward light. They survive bent, still lifefull yet purpose lost, or is it their new purpose to direct this crushing foot . We have subverted this grass, made different and with each step we are made different too, they change us as we change them,  step by step away from what was and step by step toward…….. Step by stepping step.

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