Footsteps are everywhere.
Wherever we wander,
They are there.

They weave a path
Across the landscapes
Of our lives.

They softly whisper
And tell us their stories
Of long ago journeys.

Some lead to a cliff,
Others to a mountain top,
Others just wander aimlessly.

As time passes, footsteps fade
And are covered by
The imprint of another generation.

Footsteps never die, though,
As each new footstep begins
Where an old footstep left off.

by Cody McCullough