A Crowed of me.

We are passing through life, footprints in the sand. Picked at random; fading in and out of reality, blurring lines untold, not a care for the past not a worry for the future, One life, mirrors and multiple views. Faces. Places. Feelings. All mine, in my fullest, in my wholeness but along we carry ghosts of the child we were a minute, then an hour, then a year, then a decade ago. Whispers of caution as we forge ahead on this path. Find me in the crowd of who I should be.