remember, remember

Dirty streets of Philadelphia.
These were my steps, these were my routes, these were the paths I took home.
It holds a space within me, but one that has been long replaced.
and so, as I retraced those old markings on the ripped up cobblestone, I felt a distance between my feet and the ground.
It was not the same as it used to be, returning never is.
The scenery so similar, yet inked in by other passersby, newer ones that have made those streets their own, their foot treads covering over my own.
I walked with no intention, saw what used to be, and concluded that it is indeed wonderful to remember, but I delight in moving forward.

Building new foundations now, making new paths. I hate to regress, to place these toes in my already made imprints. Remember, remember always where we come from, but let the road in front guide us to a new destination...Yes, a new home, a new street and new scenery. There are many joyous memories to be made!