When the conniving arms of a frazzled life reach this way—
grabbing with filthy fingers, tearing in all directions,
the urge to run wild and far flows with palpable fervor.
Wickedly poking and prodding a once-prized peace of mind,
legs twitch anticipating a sustained, rhythmic pounding,
chest heaves knowing the furnace of our running salvation
waits to be stoked and enkindled toward glowing horizons.
At last, with the doorjamb left behind, so goes all worries,
if just for one solitary moment as barriers
approached with steady gaze and determined stride diminish.
Passing straight through to reach a rarefied momentum,
all we are runs beside all we’ve been and strive to become,
once combusted, miles forging a clarified hereafter.