When I take the time to stop and look at my soul, I see the holes.  It’s not so much where am I going, but what is it that I really know?   Am I walking through life with heavy or light steps, I don’t have to think about walking, but am I thinking about where I am going? How does were I’ve been affect where I’ll go?  The roads that we’ve both been walking have finally met.  Souls worn smooth,  what’s around the next corner,  has become my muse.

 My stitchinghas come loose, there’s dust and dirt in the creases and cracks…..  My journey, my long walk home, this is me coming back to you? The number on the curb, I’ll always know my way back home. So, do I look forward or back over my shoulder?  This storied stack of shoes, for only they truly know the truth.