Not to
Nor from
Just for the pleasure of running
That greater presence makes me
Not lesser
Nor greater
Just aware
That the incoming tides of life
Offer little distraction to the pleasure of a run
The good days
The bad days
The days that broke me
The days that healed me
The days I shone
The days I withdrew into shadow
These were the days which made me
These were the days of reckoning
These were the days which guide me
I carry them all
In my burgeoning knapsack
A dull weight
On my shoulders
Then one day
I realize
I carry a burden
Impeding my progress
So I stop at the side of the trail
Open my knapsack
Look inside
All these days!
All these dark days!
Why do I carry them?
I take out the bad days
Leave them beside the trail
Take out the broken days
Leave them beside the trail
Take out the days of shadow
Leave them beside the trail
The knapsack feels lighter
I walk easier
Manage even a skip in my step
So I seek the beauty
In every moment
Such are the conditions
Of beautiful perfections
To an age before
This silence of spirit
And its sorrows
These days of hardness
And slight assurances
Back to a time
Of no small beauty
When time itself
Came in an abundance
Applied to the creation
Of wondrous things
While wonder was divinely inspired
Meaning was no fleeting connection
And purpose a life’s rendition
Before profit and growth and ROI
Became ends and means and purpose
A time long before
The remains of this pier
Were ever a pier
Before ever a ship
Sailed these waters
Before any European left the shores
Of a land not yet named Europe
Gently floating
I let waves and bird song
Dominate the frantic race
Of engines on the highway behind me
Breathe the ocean deeply in
Exhale millennia of progress
For a moment, at least
I exist in a time before
All that I am
Was ever possible
Can I let this self die
This day
Allow a time before
To lead me
To a time that follows
At the park
On a sunny Sunday
In a timeless observance
Of time’s frivolous expense
Small moments accumulate
In a life worth living
Pix to Words 