A Runner's Song

Aspirations

A Runner's Sonnet

She Waits
She waits like perfume lingering within the softest folds and fabric of the robe she wore against the presence of her skin; presented in her patience, time is slowed like warmth in late November, like a leaf that feels the perfect breeze yet clings aloft to barren branches.  Where is the release of autumn perfume, lingering and soft? She waits like autumn, waits for me to fall, full-knowing life will tumble, drift and sway my brittle soul.  I sense the subtle call of perfume in the robe she wore that day when gently she assured my lofty doubt that she would wait until it all worked out. for Mari.

Candace Polishes the Silver
Self-satisfied at how her hand has swept the tarnish from the heirloom of her heart, she thinks of how she held him, how she wept, and how she cried when they were miles apart. So clean, the caustic rub, the gentle rag has wiped the stain of memory away from silver cups and spoons kept in a bag, contained for once-a-year or cleaning day. Reflection is distorted in the curve of her perception, held without remorse, as light becomes a token to observe; she lets the reminiscence run its course. Then, satisfied the silver bears no trace of love, she puts it safely in its place.

How to PR
Begin as if beginning was the end of time when muscles rest and skin is dry. There is no time to hesitate; extend your will beyond the horizontal sky. Now pull each stride beneath you as the road concedes to your omnipotence of grace. Flow forward like a river and erode the confidence of time with rushing pace. Hold on to spirit rising from within your heart; hold on to spirit like a song that calls you like a siren to begin each stride like the beginning; move along the course as if the world was yours to run and race the end as if you’d just begun.

Some Thoughts on Love and Faith
What aches to be released is filled with doubt, constrained by love and faith, contained by time which in its turn concedes a life without such weights would be a life beyond sublime. Take love, like some Gibraltared coast of hope, unyielding in its ambiguity. Take faith, like some eternal length of rope tied off to some obscene eternity. Now lift your love as high as you have strength and toss it in the ocean’s shallow tide; now follow faith along its tethered length until you find the place where angels hide. In time both love and faith will be released, but doubt will be eternally increased.

Closure–A Vision at Dawn
If this, the road at dawn, becomes my choice to sanctify my heart with one last glance into the twilit memories: your voice, that chair, a song, some final circumstance. If this, the dusty red that fades to gray, becomes the time I travel through my doubt as faith becomes the night, I choose the day to rest within uncertainty, without the fear of loss.  This road is marked as well as memories remembered from the past when you and I communed but did not tell ourselves that night and darkness wouldn’t last If this is life, the spirit of the dawn releases me and I will travel on.